


Little Words

by LemonCakeDesign



Series: Almost (Sweet Music) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Child Murder, Drama & Romance, Fluff and Angst, Grief, Insecurity, M/M, PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, and haurchefant being. well. haurchefant, featuring: catching feelings, it gets dark in here folks be not distracted by my fluffy tags, just guys being dudes, the inherent eroticism of saving a life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonCakeDesign/pseuds/LemonCakeDesign
Summary: Darling, darling, darling, let me sing to youLet me sing to you, let me sing to youWhen he first meets Lord Haurchefant Greystone, Pike is screwed.





	1. Let Me Shelter You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Darling, darling, darling, let me shelter you_   
_Lay you into all the homes that fear has made of me_   
_How the shingles fall like dust beside your company_
> 
> Pike meets Haurchefant for the first time.

The first time he meets Lord Haurchefant, Pike is screwed.

Haurchefant is everything he loves in a man. Tall, beautiful, open and just a touch too flirty. When he suggests Pike spar with his knights, there’s an edge to it, one that suggests a little more than he says. Pike, ever eager to show off for a beautiful man, agrees.

But he doesn’t quite get the chance to. Nothing shows his quick skills with a bow and harp quite like fighting three attackers at once, but the young knights are so green that the fight is over pretty quickly. Still, Haurchefant claps his hands as he returns. “Truly, a tremendous fight, my dear friend!”

Pike looks at him knowingly. “Get a good look, did you?”

Haurchefant has the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Ah, yes. Well, I could hardly pass up the chance to see one such as you fight! ‘Twas quite remarkable, too. You hold yourself easily against many attackers.” He looks Pike up and down, subtly enough that if Pike didn’t know (and didn’t want) to look for it, he would miss it.

“Easy enough, with practice against poachers in the Shroud. They like to overwhelm us with numbers.”

Haurchefant nods. The conversation winds through their respective fighting history as they walk back to the intercessory, laced with innuendo at every turn. As they pass the threshold and Pike spots Alphinaud, however, he reels it back and the conversation naturally dies down. They move to talking business then, and it’s back to the usual for Pike, running all over for nothing more than a few mumbled words and a dismissal. It’s become frustratingly common place since arriving in Eorzea, he realizes, and for the first time in a long time he misses his home.

He mounts his chocobo with more than a little anger. Frustration from the constant runaround, from the uncertain state of his friends and from unwelcome thoughts of home have truly thrown him off. Pike pushes Haribou into a gallop back to the camp, hoping to hear better news on Haurchefant’s side.

He doesn’t.

In fact, worse news. Lord Francel has run off, gotten himself into danger like as not, and they want Pike to go after him. A small, ugly part of Pike is so very tired of having to save foolish people from their own mistakes, and some small part of that must show on his face, because Haurchefant’s smile falters a moment as he looks at him.

“Please, my friend,” Haurchefant is just on the polite edge of pleading. “Lord Francel is a dear friend of mine, and a good man besides. I would be in your debt.”

And Pike sighs, because he’s a complete sucker for a pretty face and damn it, he _ is _ a hero, he was probably going to go save the guy anyway. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says with a wink to Haurchefant and whistles for Haribou as he leaves, missing the blush that brightens on Haurchefant’s face.

Later, one accused heretic and his knights rescued, his armor splattered in dragon blood (which stinks to high heaven, what the hell do those things eat) and a lot better for having gotten to shoot his anger out into the hide of said dragons, Pike returns. It is approaching night then, so he stables his chocobo with those of the knights. He takes his time in brushing her down and feeding her (only the highest grade feed for his precious steed), and in the process of this Haurchefant finds him.

“My friend!” He calls as he enters the stables. Pike only raises a hand in greeting, focused on his task as he is. Haurchefant leans over the door of the sparse stable, a bright smile on his face.

“Francel sent a messenger as soon as he arrived back at the Skyfire Locks. He said that his knights will recover quickly under the care of the chirurgeons. Thank you, my friend.”

“It’s my job, isn’t it?” Pike says. “Being the hero.” He gives a laugh that manages to only slightly sound bitter.

Haurchefant hums thoughtfully. “You seem burdened by it.”

Pike sighs, placing the brush in his hand back into the wooden carrying case. He lays a hand absently on Haribou’s beak, and she nuzzles into it with a soft kweh. “Not burdened by the work itself. The consequences of it.”

“Ah. It is not an easy thing to lose a comrade in arms.”

“They were never supposed to be in harm’s way in the first place. It was my fight, not theirs.” Tears are coming, unbidden, to his eyes, and Pike swipes at them, frustrated. “Not all of the Scions are combatants, you know. Especially Noraxia. She, Minfilia, the rest of the Scions…” He looks out the door of the stable, staring not at the snowy expanse beyond it, but at the images of broken and bleeding bodies, of Noraxia dying in his arms that he can’t see to get rid of unless he’s fighting some monster. “They were relying on me to protect them.”

Haurchefant lays a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “You, my friend, are not responsible for their deaths. Those Garlean dogs are. You cannot be everywhere at once, much as you would like to be, I assume.” He smiles, a smile tinged with a sadness that Pike knows all too well.

Pike draws in a deep, shuddering breath, as one tear escapes. Haurchefant brushes it away tenderly, and his hand lingers on Pike’s cheek. He looks up into Haurchefant’s eyes, and realizes that over the course of their conversation they have drawn very close, only the door of the stable keeping them separated. Haurchefant leans in, Pike’s eyes flutter closed…

And a knight stomps his way into the stables. They jerk apart, a small flush on Haurchefant’s cheeks, and Pike can feel heat rising in his own. He clears his throat.

“Would it be too much to ask to have a bath drawn up?” He says, pointedly not looking into Haurchefant’s eyes.

“Not at all, Pike!” Haurchefant’s voice cracks just slightly, and a little giggle escapes Pike. “For one who has saved my dear friend’s life, it is no trouble.” He leans down to whisper into Pike’s ear. “Would it be too much to ask to come find you later?”

Oh, Pike is definitely bright red now. “Not at all, Lord Haurchefant,” he says, trying to remain cool and smooth. He winks, to keep himself calm, and because the red on Haurchefant’s face gets cuter by the minute.

As he soaks in the (deliciously warm, Pike was starting to forget what it was like to _ not _ be freezing all the time) bath, he tries to dissect just what, exactly, about Haurchefant that has him blushing and giggling like a kitten. He’s certainly not the first man to show interest in Pike, and definitely not the first to flirt with him so. Then again, he hasn’t flirted with many men much longer than a few heavy looks across the tavern and a few innuendo heavy sentences to gauge interest. Pike hasn’t been the relationship type, not since his younger days.

But Haurchefant isn’t necessarily interested in a _ relationship _, at least not at this stage. Maybe later (a later that Pike hopes he can avoid for quite a while, at least until he’s done with business in Coerthas), but not now. And while Haurchefant is beautiful, he’s certainly not the most stunning man Pike has met, even in Eorzea. So what is it?

Just as the bathwater begins to turn cold and Pike has finished scrubbing himself, a knock sounds at the door. “One moment!” Pike calls, lifting himself from the water. He towels off quickly and dresses in his travelling clothes (armor still caked in dragon blood and not necessarily the best for calling on a man in) before crossing the room to reach the door on the other side. He pulls open the door to see, to his surprise, Haurchefant standing on the other side. He’s dressed down, chain shirt and greaves forgone for comfortable casual clothing that somehow manages to look more expensive and fine than anything Pike has ever owned.

Pike blinks in confusion. “Lord Haurchefant. I assumed you would come find me in the barracks.”

Haurchefant gestures vaguely, embarrassed. “Ah, well, I thought I might extend an invitation for you to join me in my own private chambers.” He looks into Pike’s eyes for a moment before clearing his throat. “I thought some cocoa would serve to warm you up in this constant blizzard.”

Cocoa. Sure. “Sounds delightful, Lord Haurchefant.” Pike smiles, flashing his fangs in a way that makes Haurchefant blush, a sight Pike is really beginning to enjoy.

He follows Haurchefant to his chambers, and they speak of nothing in particular along the way. The brief flirty edge to their conversation is missing, which Pike finds disappointing. Perhaps he’s been reading their interactions wrong this whole time? But that moment in the stables...And Haurchefant seems nervous about something, a light anxious edge dancing about the ends of his words.

They reach Haurchefant’s chambers rather quickly, and Haurchefant shows Pike inside with a graceful bow. Pike chuckles a little at the sight and enters. Two chairs sit next to a rather large fire, which keeps the room rather balmy despite the constant blizzard that rages outside. A small table rests between them, set with a small platter which, sure enough, was set with two mugs of steaming cocoa. A bed, large enough for two to fit comfortably within, and a wardrobe finished out the room. 

Pike sat heavily into one of the chairs. It was plush but well loved, his favorite. He resisted the urge to curl into a tight ball and purr. Haurchefant sat in the chair next to him, and for a time they simply sat and sipped at the warm cocoa. Then Haurchefant turned to him, setting his mug back on to the table with a soft clink.

“My friend,” He began, then shook his head. “Pike. I would like to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was not my intent to...to be too forward with you. I simply find you...remarkable. To carry so much love for your comrades, to easily leap to the challenges placed before you...it is a rather wondrous thing. And I suppose it drew me in.” Haurchefant smiles down at him.

And suddenly Pike knows what is different about Haurchefant. Because when he speaks of the things he admires in Pike, it rings truer than any compliment before. Suddenly it’s not about the color of his hair or the bright purple of his eyes, but the deeper things. It’s like Haurchefant sees directly into his soul and _ likes it. _

Pike is 100% screwed.

He lays a hand over Haurchefant’s. “I...I don’t know what to say.” He clears his throat, not to clear anything from it but to give him time to think. “Lord Haurchefant, you are just as remarkable. You clearly care deeply for Lord Francel, and for your knights here, and you were the warmest and welcoming person to Alphinaud and I since we’ve come to Coerthas.” HE looks into Haurchefant’s eyes. “And if you were too forward, it was not...unwelcome.”

Haurchefant looks stunned, though whether it’s due to the compliment or the idea that Pike is attracted to him too, he can’t say. 

Pike looks away from Haurchefant’s bright eyes. “You, uh.” Pike brushes a spot of chocolate from just by Haurchefant’s lips, eager to derail this line of conversation. “You had a bit of chocolate there.” Pike’s hand lingers, and suddenly the tension is back in the air, just like in the stables. He leans in.

This time there’s no knight to interrupt them. Their lips meet, softly at first, then crashing together as passion ignites in them both. Pike surges forward, nearly capsizing their mugs in his quest to press as much of himself into Haurchefant as possible. They kiss fervently, like two lovers just reunited after ages apart, desperate to feel each other once more. He tastes like chocolate.

And then Haurchefant is sliding his hands under Pike’s loose shirt, and Pike is ripping the buttons off of Haurchefant’s because damn him, he doesn’t have the patience now for such things. He knots his hands into Haurchefant’s hair as his mouth travels south, producing a keening whine from Pike’s lips. Pike returns the favor, nipping into Haurchefant’s skin with his fangs just a touch, just enough to make a loud moan explode from the lord’s mouth. 

Haurchefant grips Pike’s legs tight as he lifts himself and Pike out of the chair, depositing them both onto the large bed. Haurchefant begins to kiss down the length of Pike’s chest, tonguing his nipples as he goes past them, until he reaches the tie of Pike’s pants. He stops, then, looking up at Pike with a question in his eyes, and Pike practically begs him to keep going.

The night passes in hitched breaths and white hot pleasure, on both ends. Their bodies press together like they cannot bear to be apart, one rising up to fill the gaps the other leaves behind. It’s not perfect, as unfamiliar they are with each other, but they laugh through fumbled hands and awkward misses.

After, Haurchefant’s hand cards through Pike’s long hair, thumbs rubbing against his ears and drawing out a soft purrs from Pike, which elicits a short laugh from Haurchefant. Pike pulls himself up to rest on Haurchefant’s bare chest.

“I fear your bath earlier may have been for naught, my dear,” Haurchefant says with humor. Pike hums in agreement. The closeness makes a warm feeling rise in his chest, which Pike attempts not to dwell on. Still, as they both drift to sleep, the last thing he thinks is that he feels safe. 

Tomorrow, Pike will wake with the first light of dawn, and stare down the ceiling as he wonders about the mess he’s gotten himself into. He will slip out of Haurchefant’s arms and pretend not to be enchanted with his sleeping face. He will collect his clothes and dress quietly, careful not to wake Haurchefant, and make his way back to the barracks before anyone but the night watch (who are so used to seeing late night trysts that they forget soon after seeing him) can see him. He will slip into the shared room with Alphinaud and Cid, taking care not to wake either of them, and pretend to sleep until woken by Alphinaud. He will resolutely not think of Haurchefant, of the night they shared, and pretend not to notice the hurt look the next time he sees Haurchefant.

But for tonight, they can pretend that none of that will happen.

* * *

Pike’s sure Alphinaud knows something happened. He keeps shooting looks at Pike as they eat a quick breakfast with the knights, but stays his tongue. Pike attempts to make conversation with him and Cid, but a standoffish 16 year old you hardly know and an amnesiac hardly make for great conversation partners. Still, he manages to wheedle enough out of them both to carry them through their meal, and it isn’t until they receive word that Haurchefant wants to share something with them that Alphinaud finally manages to ask what is on his mind.

“Where were you last night?” Alphinaud asks as they make their way to the main hall. “You weren’t there when we retired to the barracks room.”

Pike was prepared for this, however, and the lie slips off his tongue just as easily as the truth. “I don’t sleep very well since I’ve spent so much time on the road. Decided to go hunt some of the monsters in the area, thin out their packs along the main roads.”

Alphinaud nods at that, and looks convinced enough that Pike is sure he’ll drop it. At any rate, they arrive soon after at the main hall, and enter to find Haurchefant sitting in his chair behind the desk. His ever-present smile tightens at seeing Pike, which causes a horrible feeling to twist in is stomach. He looks away from Haurchefant, letting Alphinaud take the lead.

Alphinaud and Cid depart to do...whatever they’re up to. Pike realizes that the normal menagerie of knights that surround Haurchefant are gone, as well, and he steels himself for whatever conversation they are about to have. 

But Haurchefant just gives him a tight smile, and sends Pike off on a task to clear Lord Francel’s name. The horrible feeling in Pike’s stomach cements itself, and he ashamedly runs off to take care of things.

And like the universe is deciding to wrap up every bad day at once, Pike finds himself barely blocking a sword to the chest with his bow not even an hour later.

He shoots a poison arrow right in the bastard’s chest, watching the smug look fall off the knight’s face. Still, he’s too close to the fighting right now, and with no way to take himself out of the way. He kicks the swordsman away from him and knocks an arrow, shooting the knight that’s creeping up on the thaumaturge Pike is allied with. The bite of wind aether distracts him enough to take a blast of fire to the face, sending him spiralling into the snow.

The distraction costs him, and Pike barely turns back in time to see a sword swinging down on him. A sudden body slams into him and sends skidding back through the snow, as the sword clangs down on a shield. 

“Pray, excuse my lateness, my dear friend,” Lord Haurchefant says as he pushes the knight back. Pike tries his best not to swoon like some blushing maiden in a romance novel, a battle he barely wins. He collects himself and knocks an arrow once more, grateful for the breathing room Haurchefant gives him.

The inquisitor shouts threats of arrest and execution at them as they thin the crowd of knights. Pike ignores him and the clench in his chest at every sword that swings towards Haurchefant. He channels his emotions into harp strings, and sends his clear voice across the battlefield, and watches as Haurchefant’s swings grow faster, ferociously attacking the knights until only their leader seems to remain.

Pike draws close to stand with Haurchefant, aiming an arrow at the leader. “Give up,” he says, channeling more wind aether into the arrow, “You are outnumbered and outmatched.”

The leader smiles and lets out a low whistle. Pike’s ears flick as they catch wing beats, and then an intake of breath. Without thinking, he dives, taking himself and Haurchefant to the ground. A blast of fire catches Pike on the shoulder and he hisses from the pain, fangs clenched. 

“Pike!” Haurchefant shouts from the snow, worry etched on his face. Pike just shakes his head and pulls himself to his feet, putting an arrow into the hide of the wyvern flying above them. It shrieks with pain as Pike dashes away from Haurchefant, drawing the wyvern off.

“Take care of the leader, I’ve got this!” He shouts to Haurchefant and the thaumaturge. His shoulder aches as he pulls the bowstring back, but the arrow flies true and catches the wyvern in the eye. Pike puts arrow after arrow into the wyvern, aiming for the soft spots, until the wyvern gives a final shriek and collapses to the snow, turning the white powder red.

Haurchefant finally overpowers the leader and runs him through. Pike returns to him, clutching his shoulder, and kneels by the supposed knight. The inquisitor starts going off, shouting about them being heretics.

“I believe you are mistaken, Inquisitor,” Pike bites out as he pulls a rosary from the pocket of the knight. “The only heretic lies dead, here, in front of us, and the only one working with him was _ you _.” He levels a glare at the inquisitor, who looks stunned.

“We have found evidence that the rosaries were planted within Lord Francel’s packages,” Haurchefant says. “That they were searched by knights before departing with the couriers, but turned up with rosaries afterwards points only to a blatant attempt to discredit a house and a man with good standing.”

The inquisitor looks at the fallen knight, then back up at the two of them. Pike slyly pulls back on his bow string, just a touch, and watches with glee as the inquisitor pales, and acquiesces, leaving them with a glare and a few more venomous words.

They free Lord Francel and send him off with the thaumaturge, back to the Locks to report on what happened. Haurchefant turns to Pike with a smile, that quickly fades as he looks down at the nasty burn on Pike’s shoulder. 

“Let us get you to a chirurgeon, my friend.” He says gently, laying a hand on Pike’s other shoulder. 

They make their way back to Camp Dragonhead in silence, and the dark feeling in Pike’s stomach returns. He resolutely does not look at Haurchefant as he is delivered into the care of the chirurgeons. He sits patiently through their ministrations and through Alphinaud’s worried questions, grateful for the distraction.

Later, his wound finally dressed and released from Alphinaud’s watchful gaze, Pike hears a knock on the door of the infirmary room. He opens the door, expecting Alphinaud again, but Haurchefant instead stands outside the door, looking uncharacteristically upset. Pike steps aside to let him into the room, shutting the wooden door behind him.

“Pike,” Haurchefant begins, then falters. He clears his throat. “My intent was to let our night together pass, in the hopes of sparing you any discomfort. However,” he looks down, then takes Pike’s hands into his own. “However, when you saved me from the fire today, and took that wyvern down on your own, I realized something.”

Pike’s breath is caught in his throat as he looks up into Haurchefant’s eyes.

“In just a few short days, you have inspired such emotion in me.” Haurchefant smiles at Pike, who’s still frozen. “I would hope that I was not wrong that what we shared last night was more than just physical for the both of us. And I would not let something so precious slip past me if I could help it.”

“I-” Pike’s voice breaks. “I _ can’t _.” He slips his hands out of Haurchefant’s, clenching them at his sides. 

Haurchefant looks stunned and hurt, but Pike rushes on, ignoring the pain the lances through him.

“I have already lost so much,” Pike says, turning to look out the infirmary window. “Friends, family. Myself. And I can’t lose another person like that. When I saw you in battle today, I knew. I knew that I couldn’t let myself feel more than I already do, because it would wreck me if something happened to you.”

“I would hope that you would trust I can take care of myself,” Haurchefant says, hurt in his voice.

“I trusted the Scions were strong, Haurchefant. And now they are dead or captured because of me.” Tears brim in his eyes again, and his words catch on the knot that forms in his throat. “I will not let anyone else die for my fight. At least if I don’t love you, it won’t be my fault if you get hurt.”

“It is not your fault-”

“It is!” Pike shouts, wheeling back around to face Haurchefant. “Every drop of blood spilled by those damned Garleans is on my hands, because they were looking for me. They were counting on me, and I let them down. I have let _ everyone _I love down, my whole life. I will not-” He breaks, the tears beginning to fall. “I will not add any more blood stains to my hands.”

Haurchefant looks sadly down at Pike. “Then I will not be another burden, my friend. Heal well. I will give Alphinaud the details necessary for you to find your airship.” He exits the infirmary room, shutting the door softly behind him. Pike collapses onto the bed, tears still streaming from his eyes. 

He cannot help but feel he has made the wrong decision.

* * *

“Thancred? Can I talk to you about something?" 

Thancred looks up to see Pike standing in his doorway, wringing his hands nervously. He motions for him to come in, pulling himself up further in the bed as Pike settles into a chair near his bedside. 

“Sorry, I should have asked how you were feeling first,” Pike says, ears flicking with discomfort.

“I have had far too many well-wishers at my bedside this past week,” Thancred says with an eye roll. “I am glad to have something other than my own mistakes to focus on for a spell.”

Pike’s eyes soften at this. “You were possessed, Thancred. You couldn’t have-”

Thancred holds up a hand, cutting Pike off. “I’ve heard the lecture a few thousand times now, Pike. Let us let it rest for a moment. Now, what has the esteemed Warrior of Light looking like so nervous?”

Pike winces at the title. “I wish everyone would stop calling me that,” he grumbles, looking off to the side. He sighs. “I think I’ve made a mistake.”

Thancred’s eyebrows raise as he looks at Pike. “A mistake?”

Pike nods. “When you all were missing, Alphinaud and I were in Coerthas, looking for Cid’s airship.”

Thancred nods. “I heard about that from Alphinaud. He was quite keen to catch me up on your adventures.”

“I figured. Did he tell you about Haurchefant?”

“The knight that helped you?”

Pike looks to side. “Did a little more than help,” He says, cheeks flushing.

Thancred looks at him for a moment, then bursts out laughing. Pike goes even redder and buries his face in his hands. Thancred calms after a few moments, though he still chuckles as he says, “You and your pretty boys, Pike.”

“He’s not just a pretty boy,” Pike mutters from where he still hides his face in his hands.

Thancred sobers, his expression going a bit softer. “Ah, I see. And he doesn’t return your feelings?”

“He does.”

Thancred blinks at Pike. “Then what is the issue?”

And Pike explains everything that happened between him and Haurchefant, including their final conversation. Thancred looks solemn as he describes his insecurities in detail.

“But something has changed?” Thancred asks, finally, as Pike finishes speaking.

“I-” Pike looks down at his hands. “When I found out you were possessed, I thought I was right. That I couldn’t risk letting anyone else close because I couldn’t handle it if anything like that happened again. But…” He looks at Thancred, and smiles. “But you came back, I _ saved _ you, and for the first time I felt like I could keep those I cared about safe.”

Thancred looks at the Warrior of Light. Pike looks so young and hopeful to him, and not for the first time he wonders if they are laying too much onto his shoulders. “It’s not about keeping those you love safe, Pike.” Thancred lays a hand on his shoulder. “Even if you were able to protect him from everything, an accident could still happen, or he could get sick. You are not a god, despite what the realm may think.”

Pike sighs and leans back in his chair, hands rubbing down his face. “I-” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if I could handle it if I lost him too.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But to deny yourself happiness to protect from future pain would be to live only half a life.” Thancred leans against the wall behind him. “Would you trade a single memory of those you have loved to never feel that pain ever again?”

Pike considers for a long moment. Then, a small smile on his face, he says, “No. No, I wouldn’t.”

Thancred smiles and pats him on the shoulder. “Then you have your answer, do you not?”

Pike nods as he stands. “Thank you, Thancred. I’m glad I talked to you.”

Thancred smiles and watches as Pike crosses to the door. “Wait, why did you talk to me?”

Pike stops, and his ears twitch in embarrassment. “Well, I figured you had broken enough hearts you’d be able to help me figure out a way to win him over.”

Thancred sputters. “I’m going to kill Urianger one of these days, I swear it.”

Pike laughs his way out the door.

* * *

Valliant narrowly dodges the balled up piece of parchment that Pike chucks at the wall next to her as she enters the Waking Sands common room. It bounces gently off the wall and falls into (worriedly large) pile on the ground. She crosses the room and settles into a chair across from Pike as he groans and slams his forehead onto the stack of parchment in front of him. 

“Careful next time you’re in Gridania, the elementals might take issue with the amount of paper you’re wasting.” Valliant says with a grin. Pike just mumbles into the stack of parchment, tone grumpy. He sits up after a moment, levelling a glare at the stack.

The room is empty except for the two of them, everyone else preparing for the move to Revenant’s Toll. Valliant and Pike had been told, rather firmly, that they were to rest, having just had a long battle against Ifrit. As much as they likely needed it, neither was well suited to idleness and Valliant had been off for a few hours practicing stances, keeping her skills sharp. Apparently Pike had been here, wrestling with parchment.

“What are you struggling with? A new composition?” She asked, looking off at the pile of parchment balls.

Pike shakes his head. “There would be a lot more screaming if that were the case.”

He was right. Once, when a particular melody had escaped him, she had returned to the Waking Sands to find several of the Scions looking shaken and avoiding the room he used when staying there, until she had dragged him out by the ear to apologize to everyone individually. 

The song had been beautiful once he finished it, however.

“What then? A poem? Love letter?” She winks at him, but Pike lets out another loud groan at her last suggestion and buries his face in the parchment again. “Well, well, well. I thought you were more of the love them and leave them type?”

Pike sighs as he pulls himself up, resting his head on crossed arms. “It’s not like I don’t feel things, Valliant.”

She pats him on the head, gently. “I know, kid. But you’ve never seemed like the long-term commitment type. So who is it? One of your latest ‘conquests’?” Her eyebrows wiggle suggestively at him.

Pike wrinkles his nose at her. “It’s easy to forget you’re so old when you talk like that.”

“Watch your mouth, kid. And quit changing the subject.”

Pike goes a bit red in the cheeks. “Okay, okay.” He picks himself up and tucks his knees into his chest, tail coming around to curl around his ankle. “So, before you met up with Alphinaud and I in Whitebrim, we spent some time at Camp Dragonhead…”

He tells her the same story he told Thancred, adding in a shortened version of that conversation as well. Valliant nods along, her face growing more serious as he continues.

“So I’ve been planning this letter to send to Haurchefant, and hopefully he’ll forgive me enough for us to talk.” Pike finishes, gesturing to the pile of parchment. “But I can’t seem to get the wording right.”

“Why don’t you go to see him in person?”

“Oh yeah, Val. Great idea. ‘Hi, remember me? I broke your heart like a month ago and never said anything to you afterward. Love me.’”

Valliant rolls her eyes at him. “And you think that’ll come out better in a letter?”

“Maybe?” Pike drops his chin onto his knees. “At least I won’t have to look him in the eyes when he rejects me.”

Valliant’s eyes soften at that, and she drags her chair over to sling an arm around his shoulders. “Hey. If he can’t see how you’re opening up for him when you get that far, he’s not worth you being upset over. And if he hurts you when he does that, I’ve got a sword I can shove up his ass-”

“Valliant!” Pike shrieks, hitting her on the arm, as she laughs. He laughs along with her after a moment, and she can see a bit of the worry drop out of his expression. 

They’re interrupted after a moment by Yda sticking her head into the common room. “There you two are. There’s talk of Garuda being summoned again, Papalymo and I are going to investigate. You should come with.”

Valliant groans loudly as they stand. “I fucking hate Garuda.”

The pile of parchment is left behind, and thoughts of talking with Haurchefant slip from Pike’s mind in the wake of fighting primals, moving to Revenant’s Toll and dealing with the Doman refugees. He does not think about it, in fact, until he finds himself riding his chocobo through the gates of Camp Dragonhead to inquire about missing provisions.

* * *

Camp Dragonhead has not changed much in the few months since Pike had visited last. Several new faces watch him warily as he guides Haribou into their stables, but a few knights smile at him in recognition. He asks about the shipments, hoping against hope that he doesn’t actually have to speak with Haurchefant, but he’s quickly directed to speak with the knight himself.

Pike steels every nerve in his body as he opens the doors to the main hall. His breath catches in his throat as he spots Haurchefant sitting at the desk, speaking cordially with one of his knights. He looks up to see Pike standing in the doorway, and Pike freezes as their eyes meet. He feels dizzy and sick as he awaits Haurchefant’s reaction.

Disappointment rings through him as Haurchefant gives him a friendly, but distant smile.

“My friend! To what pleasure do we owe your visit? Not another airship, I hope? It was hard enough to find the first.” Haurchefant jokes jovially.

Pike shakes himself mentally, finally striding further into the main hall. He attempts to return Haurchefant’s smile as he speaks, though it likely looks a bit more strained. “I’m working with Slafborn to track down some of our missing goods. We had an adventure stumble into Revenant’s Toll, injured and saying they were attacked by heretics.”

Haurchefant nods. “Yes, we’ve had a few complaints about heretics recently. They’ve a new leader, who they call Lady Iceheart. I’m afraid I don’t know much more, but Lord Drillemont may know more. Please, do tell me what you learn, if anything.” 

Pike nods, and then opens his mouth to speak, but words fail him. He bites his lip, finally saying, “I will,” and leaves the hall.

As he straps up Haribou to ride to Whitebrim, he curses his damned cowardice.

He returns a few hours later, as the sun sets in the wilds of Coerthas, to give his report to Haurchefant. Pike is brief, and does not look into Haurchefant’s eyes as he speaks, though he can feel them burning into his skin. As he turns to leave, Pike thinks he sees Haurchefant about to say something else, but he simply remains silent.

Pike’s attempts to flee Camp Dragonhead are waylaid by a knight coming to report a coming blizzard.

“How far away?” He asks the knight, trying to calculate how fast he can ride Haribou to Mor Dhona.

“Less than an hour, ser.” The knight says. Pike curses.

“Suppose I’ll have to teleport, then,” he mutters, stifling a yawn. Teleporting while tired isn’t usually a good idea, but he thinks he can power through, and return for Haribou tomorrow.

“Stay.”

Pike whips around to look at Haurchefant, who’s eyeing him with an unreadable expression. He feels his heart clench. “I really shouldn’t, Slafborn’s waiting for a report-”

“You’re dead on your feet, my friend,” Haurchefant says as rises, stretching out his neck as he does. “And you’ll just have to come back for your mount in the morning. We have plenty of space here, so you can wait out the blizzard and depart at your earliest convenience.”

Pike tries to think of an argument, but the exhaustion of riding back and forth and fighting in the snow is deep in his bones. His ears droop a bit as he crosses his arms and looks away from Haurchefant. “Fine, I’ll stay.”

Haurchefant leads him to a room not far from his own, and bids him goodnight fairly quickly. Pike shucks his armor and dumps it in a pile at the foot of the bed, too exhausted to do more. He drops into the bed, but sleep escapes him despite his tiredness. Thoughts of Haurchefant just down the hall torture him, and he can’t make his mind quiet for long enough for sleep to find him. 

He tosses the blankets aside as he rises, and crosses to the door. Pike strides down the hall, barely aware of where he’s going until he finds himself outside of Haurchefant’s door. He raises his hand to knock, but hesitates for just a moment. Then he sighs to himself and sharply knocks on the door.

It opens within a few moments, to the site of a bleary Haurchefant, hair mussed from sleep. Pike steps closer to him, laying a hand on Haurchefant’s face and staring up into his eyes, trying to speak every word he can’t say into that gaze.

It must work, because Haurchefant leans down and presses his lips to Pike’s. Pike closes his eyes as they kiss, and he feels like a thousand burdens have been lifted off his chest. They break the kiss after a few moments, but stay close to each other.

“I’m sorry,” Pike whispers. 

“I forgive you,” is the reply.

When Haurchefant takes him to bed this time, it feels like coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive any timeline mistakes, it's been ages since I've played A Realm Reborn and I did my best with the wikis. 
> 
> More chapters coming sometime? This took me over a month of work just to get done, but I want to continue the story (up to and definitely including the Scene Itself), because it's been fun to explore my character in this way.
> 
> Title and quote in the summary, along with chapter titles, come from the song "Little Words" by the Happy Fits.


	2. Let Me Cherish You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Darling, darling, darling, let me cherish you_  
_Let me cherish you_  
_Through this cold metal screen_  
_It will just be you and me_  
Between primals and heretics and traitors, Pike and Haurchefant steal moments away for themselves.

In the morning, Pike wakes to find Haurchefant staring down at him, his fingers coming through Pike’s long hair. He smiles up at Haurchefant, who smiles back. They are wrapped up in each other, limbs weaving into each other like a tapestry of affection. For a long time, they do not speak, content to bask in the light of each other’s presence.

But the words are still heavy on Pike’s tongue, and the pull of obligations tugs at them both. So as they ready, pulling small clothes on and strapping armor to each other, Pike explains his change of heart. He watches Haurchefant’s eyes grow soft with sadness as he tells him of the failed letters, and for the first time that morning, he speaks.

“To think, someone so beautiful, so brave as you,” he says, resting a hand on Pike’s cheek, “Could believe me so indifferent as to reject your open heart that you would lay bare for me.”

Pike leans into the hand, savoring every touch that Haurchefant gives him like it’ll be the last. “I do not think myself above the consequences of my actions,” he says simply, and Haurchefant nods.

They move on to lighter topics, Haurchefant asking about his adventures up to this point. Pike regales him with the tale of Good King Moggle Mog the XII, and explains the strange, two boat fighting they had to do against Leviathan. The conversation carries them to the stables. It’s still early, the only knights out and about those on patrol, so Haurchefant manages to escape being waylaid by work.

Haribou greets them with a soft kweh as they enter, and Pike feeds her a piece of dried plum. He checks her tack and saddles her up to ride back to Mor Dhona, and the conversation slowly fades. Haurchefant leans over and kisses Pike slowly, and the kiss is laced with preemptive longing.

“Travel well, my dear,” Haurchefant says, resting his forehead against Pike’s. “And stay safe.”

“You as well,” Pike responds.

Haurchefant smiles and kisses him one last time, before he strides out of the stable. Pike’s gaze lingers long after he leaves, until Haribou nips him in the ear. He leads her out of the stable and into the sun that glints off of the fresh snow around the garrison, and with one last longing look towards the main hall, digs his heels into her sides and rides off towards Mor Dhona.

* * *

“You,” Valliant declares to Pike, shutting her book with a snap, “are being insufferable.”

Pike looks up at her from where he’s sat in the Rising Stones common room, a sheet of music paper in front of him and a mug of tea at his side. “What?” As far as he was aware, he had simply been scratching away at the composition in silence, adjusting the harmony slightly.

“This is the tenth time you’ve sighed in the last ten minutes.” She says, gesturing at him with the book. “If you miss Haurchefant so much, just go see him already.”

Pike shoots a glance towards where Hoary and Coultenet stand, discussing their next job for the Scions. Though unashamed of (and downright egotistical about) his exploits, Pike hadn’t shared the news of his relationship with Haurchefant with anyone besides Valliant and Thancred. He was afraid of upsetting the careful balance they had struck for the moment. Hoary and Coultenet seem not to have noticed them, but Pike still shoots Valliant a low glare anyway. She just gives him an expectant look.

“I can’t,” Pike says with a pout. “There’s not any shipments for the next few weeks so I don’t have an excuse.” They didn’t really need him as a guard on the shipments, as the heretics hadn’t been attacking as much, leaving him and Haurchefant plenty of time to flirt.

Valliant raises an eyebrow. “So?”

Pike sighs and takes a sip from his tea. “So, every time I try to sneak off, someone summons a primal and I have to go kill it. Or they get a new lead on that traitor in the Flames. I miss all the free time I used to have before all this.”

“Ugh, tell me about it.” Valliant grimaces “And it’s not like we can just tell them no, either.”

“Yeah, that’d go over well. ‘Find a different primal slayer, I’m retiring!’” Pike laughs. Valliant chuckles with him.

They’re interrupted by Alphinaud entering with Ilberd, discussing some Crystal Brave investigation or another. Ilberd gives a salute and departs, and Alphinaud’s gaze lands on Pike and Valliant. He smiles brightly and makes his way over to them.

“Excellent, you’re already here!” Alphinaud says. “I’ve received word from Lord Haurchefant. A representative of Ishgard would like to speak with us, the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights.”

“Us?” Pike asks with confusion.

“Yes, well, the meeting is contingent on the appearance of the Warriors of Light.”

Pike groans. “More hero worship. Great.”

Valliant nudges him with a warning, though the look on her face isn’t very pleased either. Neither was much for the hero worship their “title” brought on them. Pike was just louder about his displeasure for it.

Alphinaud sighs. “Would it be that we could earn these meetings on my merits. Still, Ishgard is a faction we have been hoping to meet with for a long time. I would ask this favor of you, my friends.”

He’s giving Pike puppy dog eyes. Damn him. Pike rolls his eyes and pats Alphinaud on the head, mussing his hair. “Fine. When are they coming here?”

Alphinaud glares as he fixes his hair. “Lord Haurchefant said that Ser Aymeric would like to meet with us at Dragonhead, as he’s rather busy. I’m sure I could push for him to meet us here if you’d rather-”

“No!” Pike says rather hurriedly. Alphinaud looks rather confused, and Pike clears his throat before continuing. “I mean, it was already hard enough to get this meeting and I know it means a lot to you. Dragonhead is fine.”

Valliant is barely repressing giggles at him and he shoots her a glare. Alphinaud looks between them with confusion, eventually shaking his head at them.

“We’ll meet with him tomorrow, then.” Alphinaud says. “I shall meet you both here in the morning?” With nods from them both, he departs with a farewell. 

Pike can barely contain his excitement as he turns to Valliant. “Help me plan a good outfit. I’m stunning that man when I walk in.”

Valliant laughs as she slings an arm around his shoulders. “You’d stun him walking in wearing a popoto sack, kid.”

* * *

Unfortunately for Pike, the cold weather denies his wilder outfit plans. Still, he manages to make the coat he wears look fabulous, and he feels Haurchefant’s eyes lingering on him as he directs the group to the Intercessory. Pike lingers behind Alphinaud and Valliant as they enter, and in the cold alleyway, Haurchefant sweeps him up into a kiss.

They break the kiss after a short moment, and Pike rests his head on Haurchefant’s chest. “Twelve above, I missed you,” Pike says with a sigh.

“As did I, my dear.” Haurchefant says. “I fear we cannot spend too long together, lest your guests grow impatient. Perhaps later.” He gives Pike one last kiss and leads him into the intercessory.

The meeting goes about as well as Pike had presumed it would. He endures the hero worship from Ser Aymeric (though he will admit that having such a beautiful man fawn over him does boost his ego a little), and mostly tunes out the political discussion there after in favor of mooning just a touch over Haurchefant.

Sue him, he hasn’t seen Haurchefant in a while.

He does perk up as they mention one of the caravans being attacked. When he had been escorting the caravans, they hadn’t seen even a sign of a heretic. Pike wonders if his presence had truly been that much of a deterrent.

After looking into the caravan attacks and meeting with Iceheart, Pike finds himself exhausted. Valliant looks much the same, rolling her shoulders from a particularly heavy blow on her shield. Still, the work remains, and they push through, tracking down the merchant who was working with the heretics.

They finally get a moment to breathe, though another lead on the Ivy beckons on the horizon. Valliant argues with Alphinaud for a moment to rest, as Pike leans heavily against the wall outside the Observatorium. His side aches from where a blow caught him, and his arms tremble from the effort of arrows slung.

“Alphinaud, look at him.” Valliant says. “He’s dead on his feet, couldn’t shoot an arrow straight if he tried. I’m much the same. I understand tracking down the Ivy is important, but we’re no good to you like this.”

Alphinaud finally relents at that, and they depart back to Camp Dragonhead to rest. Valliant half carries Pike to the infirmary, and the gentle caress of healing magic lightens them both. Haurchefant appears halfway through their visit, worry etched on his face.

“I heard you faced down with Iceheart earlier,” he says, taking Pike’s hand gently. “And some hundred heretics besides. You take on much, my dear.”

“Exaggeration, darling.” Pike says with a grin. “It was more like twenty.”

Haurchefant glares a bit at Pike. “That does not make me worry less. You’re very strong, but please, take care of yourself.”

Pike sighs and draws Haurchefant closer, resting his forehead against Haurchefant’s chest. “Who else will do it?”

“We knights have been protecting Ishgard for a century now, I’m sure we would manage without you.” Haurchefant strokes Pike’s hair.

“She’s summoning a primal, Haurchefant. That’s kind of my job.”

“Then focus on that, and leave the heretics to us.” Haurchefant kneels to come face to face with Pike. “I cannot bear to see you hurt like this because you need to take every problem on as your own, my dear.” His eyes are soft but worried, and his thumb brushes across Pike’s cheek.

Pike leans into his hand, his eyes sliding shut. “I can’t help it, darling. You know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Haurchefant sighs. He presses his lips to Pike’s, a concession. “I will just have to contend with the early grave the stress you cause me will send me into.”

He rises, and his eyes catch Valliant, who’s been watching them the whole time. Haurchefant goes a bit red and Pike laughs, gently.

“My friend! I apologize, I had not realized your presence.” Haurchefant says with enthusiasm, though he squeaks a bit through it. “Are you feeling well? I heard that you had taken a few hits as well.”

Valliant waves him off with a hand. “There’s a reason I’m the one with the shield.”

“Yes, of course.” Haurchefant fidgets nervously, and Pike, still amused, decides to save him.

“We were hoping we could rest here for the night, if that’s alright?”

Haurchefant brightens considerably, and Pike goes very soft at his smile. “Of course! I shall have rooms made up for you.”

Valliant snorts. “Just the one, I bet.”

Haurchefant goes very red again, and stutters his way through some form of excuse between Valliant’s laughs. Pike feels his face heat a bit too. 

With another chaste kiss, Haurchefant absconds, his face still cherry red. Pike shoots a small glare at Valliant, but there’s no heat to it.

Valliant stands and crosses the room to sit next to Pike. She nudges him with a shoulder. “He’s good for you. You look so much happier when he’s in the room.”

Pike’s eyes trail to the door, a small smile on his face. “I feel lighter when he’s around. As much as it makes him worry, with him at my side, I feel like I could solve the world’s problems.”

Valliant’s eyes go a bit steely at that. “He’s right, you know. You should have stopped much earlier. You could barely even aim your bow at the end there.”

Pike scoffs. “You’re one to talk. You don’t need to take so many hits for me.”

“You’re strong kid, but the day I let you take a hit is the day I retire.”

“And the day I stop helping others is the day I do too.”

Valliant leans her head to rest on Pike’s with a sigh. “What a pair we make, huh?”

* * *

Unfortunately for both him and Haurchefant, Pike’s too exhausted to do anything but sleep when he finally makes his way free of the infirmary and to Haurchefant’s bedroom. With Haurchefant at his side, his sleep is the most restful he’s had in ages. Pike wakes with the first rays of light shining through the window, to Haurchefant’s hands rubbing his ears. Pike purrs and pushes into the hand, to a soft chuckle from Haurchefant.

“Good morning, my dear.” Haurchefant greets him, leaning down for a kiss. Pike accepts with more purring.

“A man could get used to this,” Pike says, but Haurchefant’s eyes grow sad at his words. Pike sighs. Right. He still has to leave. Not for the first time, he wishes he could just give it all up, leave the Scions behind and live his own life. Freedom, to be with Haurchefant as much as he chooses, to make his own choices. To never fight another battle, if he didn’t want to.

He shakes those thoughts off. He would never, even if they let him go. The amount of lives that would be lost…

It did not bear thinking about.

Haurchefant seems to sense his darkening mood, and distracts him easily with another kiss. They sit in embrace for a few more minutes, skin drinking in skin, before setting about getting themselves ready. Pike frowns at his armor, still stained with blood from the night before. He sets it aside and dons his travelling clothes instead.

He helps strap Haurchefant into his armor instead, double checking straps and smoothing chain so it sits properly. Each layer of protection soothes a small part of Pike’s soul, the part of him that screams every time he’s not right by his beloved’s side. Nothing settles the worry entirely, of course, but it helps.

They run into Valliant on their way out, already dressed in her armor. Pike wonders if she fell asleep in it, having seen her do that before.

“Didn’t expect to see you up this early, Pike,” Valliant jokes. “Your boy toy not exhaust you enough last night?”

Haurchefant goes red, but Pike just sighs. “I wish. I passed out the second I got into bed.”

Valliant tsks, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Maybe the frustration will convince you not to go so hard, next time.”

“Having a hard time keeping up, old lady?” Pike smirks at her, then yelps as she suddenly picks him up and throws him over her shoulder. Haurchefant laughs as Valliant speeds off, taking them out into the cold air.

She handily tosses Pike into a large snowbank, head first. He splutters as he claws his way out, screaming obscenities in his native language at her. She dodges him as he hisses and launches himself at her, claws first.

They end up wrestling in the snow, rolling around and trading light slaps. Eventually, Pike ends up flat on his back, Valliant sitting on top of him.

“Alright, I yield!” Pike shouts, breathlessly. Valliant jumps up, barely even winded, and extends a hand to help Pike up. He shivers as he gets up, his fur soaked through with snow. Valliant takes one look at him and starts laughing, and he barely holds back the urge to dive at her again. He’d just lose again.

“You two manage to be so full of energy in the morning. It is quite the inspiration,” Haurchefant says as he comes up behind them. He hand Pike his cloak, which had been left inside. Pike gratefully wraps the cloak around himself, still shivering.

He takes Haurchefant’s hand and pulls him down for a kiss. “Sorry to leave you so soon, but I believe Alphinaud will combust if we don’t leave soon.” Pike sighs.

“You have your duties, and I mine, my dear.” Haurchefant smiles. “Keep yourself safe, and I will see you as soon as we are able, yes? No reckless acts.”

“Of course, darling. Stay safe as well.” Pike reluctantly lets go of his hand. 

He and Valliant depart, and Pike’s heart stays behind.

* * *

“Nobody tell Haurchefant about this plan until we’re through,” Pike says, eyes steely.

They stand within Snowcloak, around the aetheryte that will (hopefully) take them to Iceheart’s lair. Pike trusts Minfilia, and she seems to trust Moenbryda, so he’s willing to go along with the plan, especially knowing time is running low on finding another way in. But the chance of death lingers heavily in the air.

Valliant rests a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “Are you sure? You’d want to know, if he were attempting something like this.”

Pike shakes his head. “Let me be selfish. You know he would try to do something foolish, like try to follow us in.”

Valliant sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “It’s your call. And we’re sure there’s no other way in, right?”

Alphinaud pipes up then, having watched the back and forth with growing confusion. “I’ve had the Braves and the Temple Knights searching for the past week. Our time grows short, and I fear what will happen if we allow her to summon Shiva without interference.”

Pike nods, and raises a hand to attune himself to the aetheryte. In shape, it is similar to the Beastmen aetherytes he’s attuned to before, and the aether swirls in a similar way around. A chill runs down his spine as the aether currents align, and he shakes himself as he turns back to the group. Valliant raises her own hand to attune after he finishes.

Alphinaud cocks his head at Pike. “What is this about Haurchefant?”

Pike freezes, his tail curling with embarrassment. He, really, had meant to tell the Scions about his relationship by this point, but he keeps getting busy and forgetting to mention it. “I-uh-” his eyes dart around the room. “Oh, look, Valliant’s done attuning. We should get ready to leave.” He flees, leaving Alphinaud looking confused and curious. 

They make their preparations, taking a few potions from the stock the Crystal Braves keep at their nearby encampment. Pike makes sure he has arrows stocked up. Jehantel had been teaching him to craft arrows from his own aether, and so far things had gone well, but he’d rather have the back up. He gives an experimental strum of the harp that is now attached to his bow, making sure everything is still in tune.

Valliant finishes sharpening her sword and slips it into the sheath on her waist. “Ready?” She asks.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Teleporting, for Pike, is strange. In his home country, they did not have any aetherytes, and in his travels after, he hadn’t been in a position to really use them. The way the aether fills his veins, making every one of his nerves buzz is both terrifying and exhilarating. But the added difficulty of searching for aether streams on his own doesn’t give him time to relish in the experience, and with a deep breath, he sends his soul down the stream.

He arrives at the other end in one piece, thankfully, and so does Valliant. They arrive in a crystalline amphitheatre, directly in front of Iceheart.

“Shit, there goes the element of surprise,” Pike says, drawing his bow. Valliant hoists her shield, standing just slightly in front of him.

“You should never have come here, Warriors of Light,” Iceheart says with a frown. “I labor only to forge a lasting peace. A peace you would deny us out of ignorance and blind faith.”

“Funny, doesn’t seem that way to me.” Valliant says.

“...No matter. If it is our fate to be at odds, then it is mine to strike you down.” Iceheart replies, stone-faced. 

Pike knocks an arrow, pointing it right at Iceheart’s chest. “Look, if you don’t summon your primal and give back the crystals you stole, we’ll let you leave. I don’t have skin in your fight with Ishgard, but it puts the whole realm at risk when you summon gods.”

“No skin? And yet your lover is one of the knights of Ishgard, and bastard son of a noble house, no less.” Iceheart’s eyes narrow at Pike. “A blind follower of their faith, shuttled off to some distant camp, an embarrassment to his house-” Her eyes widen as an arrow sails past her, cutting a thin slice across her cheek.

“Watch your words, witch.” Pike hisses. “I won’t ask again. Stop your summoning, surrender the crystals or I _ will _ end your life.” 

“I do not summon one of your petty primals here today!” Iceheart shouts, as her body begins to glow. Valliant grips her sword tighter and Pike readies another arrow, eyes wide. “We, who gods and men have forsaken, shall be the instruments of our deliverance!”

The familiar pain of the Echo pounds behind Pike’s skull, but he fights to keep his focus. Valliant grimaces as well. He looses another arrow at Iceheart, but the pain shakes his aim and it sails off target.

“Partake of my flesh--fill this vessel with your light! Walk amongst your brothers and sisters once more!” Ice forms around Iceheart’s feet, and the glow grows blinding. “O Saint Shiva, still the hatred within our hearts, and bless us with eternal grace!” The ice fully encases her, and Pike’s eyes widen.

“Is she summoning the primal into her body?” He shouts over the wind that steadily grows. “I didn’t know they could do that!”

“I didn’t either!” Valliant yells back. “Steady your guard!” 

The crystal shatters, and a bright blue woman rises into the air. She summons a blade of ice, and barrels down, heading straight for Pike, who dodges by a hair’s breadth. Valliant’s shield knocks into the back of her head, and her attention switches quickly as the shield is drawn back by a string of aether.

The fight is long and difficult. The raging wind and bitter cold keeps Pike struggling to keep his arrows straight, and Shiva keeps dropping large boulders of ice that he has to dodge. But they overpower her, little by little, until the power of the crystals is apparently spent and Shiva’s form dissipates, leaving Iceheart collapsed on the ground.

Valliant leans heavily on her shield, breath coming out in short gasps. A dozen cuts litter her armor, and a red streak slashes across her cheek. Pike’s voice is raw with effort from singing and he shakes with cold, but he makes his way over to her and makes sure no major wounds are visible.

Iceheart draws herself up to a kneeling position, her body shaking with effort. “Fools! Blind, bloody fools.”

Pike ignores her as he continues checking Valliant. He shoves a potion at her and she drinks it down, gagging at the bitter taste.

“You, of all people, should know the suffering war begets--that no sacrifice is too great if it brings an end to the violence.”

“You know nothing about me or my life,” Pike says, voice low.

“I know more than you think, sniper. The Cat’s Eye, they called you, isn’t that right?”

Pike’s body goes rigid. “Whatever game you think you’re playing, you can stop,” he says as he turns to her, arrow pointed at her skull. “If you know that name, then you also know just how deadly I can be with this. If you value your life, you’ll stop talking.”

Valliant’s eyes are wide as they look at Pike. His voice is cold and unfeeling, totally counter to his normal demeanor.

“You fight in a war you do not understand,” Iceheart says, rising. “A pawn of liars and schemers--just like before!”

The arrow flies just past Iceheart’s shoulder as she dodges nimbly. “Last warning!” Pike shouts.

“Redemption is not beyond us, Cat’s Eye,” Iceheart says, her voice like ice. “We who walk before may lead those that come after. Seek the Keeper of the Lake. See with eyes unclouded.”

Pike draws back on the bowstring, but a blast of icy air distracts him, and Iceheart vanishes, leaving a black swirl of aether behind.

“Hear...feel...think…” Iceheart’s voice trails off as the aether dissipates.

Pike screams with frustration and sends an arrow flying into the opposite wall.

* * *

Pike is quiet as he and Valliant follow the streams of aether back to Snowcloak. Valliant takes the lead, explaining to Moenbryda what happened, leaving out Iceheart’s words to Pike. He stares off into the distance, barely registering anyone’s words, but following Valliant back to their chocobos, who stand in the Crystal Brave encampment.

As they saddle up and begin making their way back to Whitebrim, Valliant pulls close to Pike. “Pike, what did Iceheart mean? What was that about a cat’s eye?”

Pike laughs bitterly. “Someone’s idea of a joke, you could say.” He doesn’t seem to want to elaborate further, but Valliant presses on.

“Whatever it was, it shook you pretty badly. I know you don’t like to talk about your time before coming to Eorzea, but-”

“There’s a very, very good reason for that.” Pike cuts her off. “And not one you will be getting an answer to any time soon, unless someone decides to go spilling my personal details to heretics again.” He spurs his chocobo on, and leaves Valliant behind, a worried expression on her face. 

They arrive at Whitebrim soon after, and make their way up the stairs of the barracks. Alphinaud stands with Drillemont and Ser Aymeric, and they turn to face Pike and Valliant as they ascend. 

Alphinaud speaks with enthusiasm, but Pike only responds with a tight smile. He lets Valliant tell their tale once more, and guilt lances through him when she, again, leaves out Iceheart’s conversation. She’s better to him then he deserves, but even the guilt is not enough to pry the words from his lips. 

They talk for a moment, and Pike forces himself to contribute after they ask if he’s alright. He’s still struggling to readjust himself to the present when Aymeric speaks.

“On an unrelated note...Pike, may I ask you to accompany myself to Camp Dragonhead at your earliest convenience?” He must catch Pike’s quizzical look, because he continues. “‘Tis not for my own benefit. A _ certain _ lord was _ most _distressed to learn of your intent to risk life and limb to stop Iceheart. It took half a dozen knights to restrain him, I am told.” He shoots a knowing look at Pike.

Pike starts with a surprise, jostled entirely out of his stupor. “Half a dozen?” He repeats.

Aymeric chuckles lightly. “Men give vent to their anxieties in myriad ways. Pray don’t think less of him. Alphinaud did not deliver the news of your plan lightly, it would seem.” 

Pike goes pale. “Menphina give me strength, he’s going to kill me.”

Valliant starts laughing heartily, and Alphinaud simply grows confused. “What? Why would he kill you?”

But Pike is sinking to the floor in distress. “Don’t do anything reckless, he asks, and what do I go and do? Send my soul hurtling down aether streams.” 

Valliant clasps a hand to his shoulder, still laughing. “Go show your lover you’re alright before he storms Snowcloak on his own, would you?”

Pike nods mutely.

* * *

Haurchefant paces around the main hall of Camp Dragonhead, eyeing the men standing between him and the door dubiously. He knew better than to try his luck against them again, having learned his lesson handily the first time. The back of his head pulses with a dull ache and he shoots a glare at Yaelle, who simply whistles a short tune.

He collapses into his chair with a loud sigh, fingers tapping against the wood of the desk in staccato. Attempts at completing paperwork fail, and he settles for staring at the door with growing anxiety as each minute ticks away.

Haurchefant settles back into the chair. _ Halone, protect my fool, _ he thinks, turning eyes to the ceiling. Stay safe, he had asked, and he had known there was only so safe Pike could be, but truly, this excelled. No reckless acts! No throwing yourself on a foolish plan that carried an unsure chance of _ death _! Damn him and his proclivity for throwing himself on the sword to save another.

His eyes slide to the door again. It had been too long, hadn’t it? Alphinaud had dropped by nearly an hour ago, it seemed, and delivered the news with all the grace of dropping a match into a pile of explosives. Haurchefant had managed to keep himself together until the boy left, but afterwards…

The ache in his head pulsed again and he scowled. He looked to the door again, and with no movement in the hinges nearly screamed, but settled for burying his head in his arms instead. By the Fury, he would die of stress before Pike even returned! _ If he returns… _ a small voice in his head whispers. He shakes his head to clear the thought, and nearly misses the creaking of the hinges.

Haurchefant’s head whips up, and he spots the specific shade of blue he’s been waiting for. He leaps up, vaulting over the desk and the war table, to the surprise and shouts of a few of his knights. He can see Pike’s eyes now, as he fully enters the door. The blessed purple widen in surprise as Haurchefant sweeps him up and claims him in a passionate, deep kiss.

Haurchefant pours every anxiety and dark thought of the last hour into the kiss, and he feels Pike’s arms wrap around his neck and pull him close. Perhaps he reads too much into the moment, but Haurchefant almost feels an apology on Pike’s lips.

They separate, breathing heavily, and Haurchefant feels tears forming in his eyes. “What were you thinking, Pike?! Wagering your very being on a dubious theory that _ might _ grant you entry to Icehearts lair--knowing _ full well _ that she could have sufficient forewarning to complete her ritual to summon Shiva anyway?” His eyes narrow into a glare. “And then-- _ and then! _\--engaging the abomination in mortal combat anyway? ‘Tis the stuff of ballads, and I would prefer that they stay there!”

Pike cringes, a guilty look on his face. “I’m sorry, darling... It was the only way, and we were running out of time.”

Haurchefant sighs. “I asked you not to do anything reckless, my dear.” He leans his forehead against Pike. “Next time, let me be at your side, that I may see to your protection myself.”

Pike looks into his eyes with an unreadable look. Then, he says, “I love you.”

Haurchefant stops short. He looks at Pike, and he can see some agonized look in his eyes, a hurt searching for a balm to soothe it. Haurchefant leans close, so that their lips almost touch. “I love you too,” he says, then seals it with another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Another chapter sometime lol idk when  
Also me: *posts next chapter two days later*
> 
> Y'all have tumblr user corbiknight to thank for that because their enthusiasm for the first chapter made me write half of it in one night, and then I finished the other half today. Plus my friends who listen to me scream when I make myself too tender over writing.
> 
> I'm trying hard not to just make the events a straight one to one with the game, as I want to put my own flair on it. I did include a few lines from the quests here, mostly because I found someone who recorded their cutscenes, bless them, but also because this was one of my favorite parts of the ARR patch grind. I love Ysayle and Aymeric, and of course my husband Haurchefant <3. Also this features the scene where _I_ fell in love with Haurchefant, which is reflected in Pike's confession there. 
> 
> Oh, and hints to Pike's backstory here! Not sure if that will be included in this fic specifically, but I will be writing a story of his time before Eorzea. If it wasn't clear, it's not a happy story and it forms a lot of who Pike is today and why he takes his role as Warrior of Light so seriously.
> 
> Before I stop rambling, [here's](https://lemoncakedesign.tumblr.com/post/187380460960/ur-fic-got-me-invested-in-ur-wol-please-sir-can) a link to an ask I got asking about Pike, which includes the reason why Valliant exists and features so heavily in my story!


	3. Down Came the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Down came the rain_   
_Though your little words often came_   
_And out of this dreary house you built my heart_
> 
> Through heartache and joy, Haurchefant supports him.

Pike rides the high of love all the way to through the meeting with Aymeric right up until Lucia talks. Then a spark of panic shoots through him because _ he remembers that voice. _He claws at years of training to keep himself very still and not panicking openly. 

He keeps his eyes neutrally away from Lucia, hoping she hasn’t noticed his sudden panic. He has no idea if she’s made the connection, but he doesn’t want to take the chance. Haurchefant must sense something is off about him, because his hand settles on Pike’s shoulder, drawing himself in close. It does little to soothe the raging storm inside him.

Alphinaud is also shooting Pike looks, though that’s more likely due to the sudden realization of Pike’s relationship than anything else, or at least Pike hopes. It’s been a long enough day for him, and enough people know something’s up with him to set him on edge. 

Speaking of which, Valliant has _ the _ look on her face every time her gaze passes over Pike, the “mom” look, as he’s dubbed it. Too bad for her, he is _ not _ talking about it. 

They wrap up the meeting and Pike escapes into the cold, excusing himself to go to the infirmary. He doesn’t. Instead, he wanders outside the camp, looking to thin out the wolf population and soothe the turbulence inside him. Every one of his nerves feels on fire, and his ears constantly flick around, every small sound amplified one hundred fold. It feels like he did just before coming to Eorzea, like he’s prey just waiting to get snapped up in the jaws of a lion.

A wolf crosses his vision and he draws the bowstring and fires. The arrow flies true, killing the wolf with a single shot to the skull. The dead eyes of the wolf bore into his own purple eyes, but then the body before him isn’t a wolf anymore. A young man stares up at him instead, blue eyes unseeing.

Pike turns and throws up. When he turns back, a white wolf lies before him, bleeding into the snow.

He claws fingers into his braids, yanking tufts of hair free from the elaborate twists. The brief pinpricks of pain pull him back into himself, and he collapses to his knees in front of the wolf. He forces deep breaths in and out, counting to ten and back again over and over until the panic subsides.

He stashes his bow back on his back and leaves the dead wolf behind as he makes his way out of the woods and back to Camp Dragonhead. 

Haurchefant greets him at the gate with a sigh. Pike thinks he should feel guilty, but all he feels is numb. Haurchefant still smiles as he sees him, and places a soft kiss on Pike as he draws close. An insistent arm around his shoulder guides Pike to the infirmary.

He sits patiently through the examination and is declared healthy, and Haurchefant looks like some of his worry eases. As the chirurgeon departs, Haurchefant kneels in front of Pike. Pike twists his fingers in his lap, not meeting Haurchefant’s eyes.

“Valliant told me that Iceheart said some concerning things to you, after you defeat her.” Haurchefant’s hand encloses one of Pike’s, and the other hand tilts his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “I do not know what she said, and if you would like to tell me what it was at some point, I leave that decision to you.”

By now, the numbness has rescinded, and Pike feels a part of himself twist, but he remains silent.

Haurchefant sighs and leans in close to Pike. “No matter what, I will love you, Pike. Because I did not fall in love with your past. I fell in love with the man you are today.”

Pike lets out a shuddering breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I…” he leans his forehead against Haurchefant’s and closes his eyes.. “I’m so tired of thinking about it. I was supposed to have left it behind, when I came here.”

Haurchefant rubs soothing circles into Pike’s palm. “The past can have a way of not letting us go, my love. You may have to face it one day. But if you tire of it today, I will stop talking about it. And if you ever feel ready to let me shoulder your burdens with you, I will be right here.”

“I can’t promise I ever will be.” Pike clenches Haurchefant’s hand. “I want to, but...I can’t.”

“And I will not ask you to. But I will be here, nonetheless.”

Menphina above, he loves this man. Pike surges forward and kisses Haurchefant deeply. “I love you.” He whispers it like a prayer, like if he repeats it enough it’ll make everything okay. Maybe it will.

“And I you,” Haurchefant says. He rises, dropping Pike’s hand. “Now, much as it pains me to leave you, I fear Yaelle will have my head if I put my duties on her for much longer. Will you be alright?”

“Careful, I may decide to go fight another primal,” Pike says, his tone light.

Haurchefant gives him a flat look. “You’ll do no such thing, if you don’t want to see me in an early grave.”

Pike winces. “Please don’t joke about that.”

Haurchefant softens quickly. “That was insensitive of me, my love. Still, please keep your reckless acts in check. I do not think I could handle that stress again.”

“I’ll do my best.” Pike stands and links an arm through Haurchefant’s. They walk to the main hall and part with one last kiss and a promise from Pike to visit soon. His heart, for the first time that day, feels lighter.

* * *

Y’shtola corners Pike soon after the debrief in Mor Dhona, and he finds himself at a table with a tea spread, with Valliant and Yda as well. Valliant eyes him carefully, but she must realize his change in mood, because she only takes a sip of her tea.

Pike’s stomach growls and he realizes he hasn’t eaten since long before they fought Shiva. He grabs one of the tea sandwiches, which smells delightful. He shoots a grateful look at F’lhaminn as he shoves it in his mouth. She waves at him.

Yda eyes him carefully, then says, “So how was the sex?”

Pike chokes on the sandwich. He coughs, and swallows. “Yda!” He says, face going instantly bright red.

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re suddenly a prude now, Pike.” Y’shtola says, taking a prim sip of her tea. “We’ve heard much about your exploits before now.”

Pike looks up, catching F’lhaminn’s eye as she hides a giggle behind her hand at the bar. Thankfully, she’s the only one in the room. “Yes, well, I’ve also only told you that in _ private _ settings. Not every one of the Scions needs to know every dirty detail about my sex life.”

“Oh, are we discussing Pike’s sex life again?” Thancred comes up behind them and leans on the back of Pike’s chair. 

“_ Again _?!” Pike shrieks.

“Blame Alphinaud,” Yda says, hiding a grin behind her cup of tea. “He started complaining to Valliant about you not telling anyone about your new fling.”

“Yes, I’m going to tell the sixteen year old about my wonderful new lover I just picked up.” Pike rolls his eyes and pours himself a cup of tea.

Valliant shakes her head with a sigh. “That’s what I said. And then he started complaining about being ‘wise for his age’ and how ‘he’s the leader of a company, we should take him seriously.’”

Y’shtola nods. “And then Yda mentioned that everyone else knew already, so he got _ very _ upset.”

“You all knew?” Pike asks, confused. “I only talked to Thancred and Valliant about it.”

Thancred laughs. “You’re not exactly subtle, Pike. You’ve been bouncing between completely love struck and absolutely miserable for the last two months.”

Murmurs of agreement rise from the table. Pike sips his tea thoughtfully.

“So?” Yda says, leaning forward. “How was it? You came back so much later than Vall and Alphinaud, it must have been good.”

Pike bites his lip and looks off to the side. “We didn’t actually-I mean, not this time. I was...I had some memories dragged up that weren’t exactly…” He trails off.

He’s getting pitying stares from around the table, Valliant especially. Ugh, he’s said too much.

“But!” He says, quickly switching the topic. “The last time? He did this thing,” he makes a vague gesture with his hand. “And I swear, I almost-”

The door opens behind them, and at the sound of Alphinaud’s voice, Pike cuts his sentence off with a snap of his jaw. They all turn to look at Alphinaud, and he stops short, looking utterly bewildered.

“What?” He asks. “Is there something on my face?”

The adult members of the Scions turn to look at each other, and burst out laughing.

* * *

Pike freezes as he hears Lucia’s voice inside the Solar. He thinks about running away, briefly, but the presence of Valliant and Tataru forces him forward. Tataru holds the door open for them, and Pike tries to conceal himself behind Valliant as much as possible without being obvious. Moenbryda gives them a bright smile, though she looks just as tense as Pike feels.

“I’ve brought Pike and Valliant,” Tataru announces to Minfilia.

“Thank you, Tataru.” Minfilia smiles, and turns to Pike and Valliant. “As you can see, we have a guest from Ishgard who would like to speak with you. I believe you’ve met already.”

Lucia nods. “We have. I had hoped to speak with Commander Leveilleur as well, but I cannot afford to wait any longer.”

Pike sees Tataru mouth “Commander” in the background, shaking her head, and has to suppress a snort. Truthfully, though Alphinaud is a good leader, it’s hard for any of them to think of him as a commander.

Lucia continues, oblivious to their mirth. “The lord commander sent me hither to request your aid in a matter of grave import.”

Pike sobers quickly. “Not another primal?”

Lucia shakes her head. “No, though no less dire a task.” Her face is grim, and Pike feels himself relax just a touch. She seems so focused on her task that he feels comfortable, at least for the moment, in lowering his guard.

They discuss their plans for infiltrating the wreckage, and Pike finds himself mentally sketching out a plan of attack. He’s not sure what they’ll find once they make their way in, maybe some sentry bots or some creatures that have wandered in, but nothing he and Valliant can’t handle…

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Lucia coming up behind him. “Pike?”

He jumps a little as he turns. She is much closer than he would like, and he takes a step back. He’s keenly aware of the desk blocking his way behind him. 

Lucia has the decency to look sheepish. “I did not mean to scare you. I passed through Camp Dragonhead, and Lord Haurchefant asked me to pass on a message to you. He said ‘Remember your promise.’”

Pike grins. “If you see him before I do, tell him I’ll do my best.”

They plan the assault on the _ Agrius _ over the next week, though as most plans do, it falls apart soon after entering. The airship wreckage is difficult to navigate, even with the Doman’s information, and the constant barrage of Garlean forces keeps them on their toes. By the time they reach the summit, Pike can count their encounters by the bruises blossoming on his body. And the fight with Midgardsormr is worse, he and Valliant and the rest of their squad dodging blasts of fire and claws and tails by the skin of their teeth.

He wonders if Haurchefant would consider the conversation with Midgardsormr reckless. It’s the hardest hitting blow of all, losing the crystals he had earned through his journey, and he can feel the loss of their power keenly. The lack of the wash of aether that he had adjusted to over the last six months distracts him as they dismount the ruined airship. 

They reach the shore quickly enough, and after a short debrief with Minfilia and a trip to the infirmary, Pike makes his escape. The aetherial imbalance from losing the crystals leaves him drained enough not to attempt to teleport, but with his other injuries healed he figures he can make it by chocobo.

The trip itself goes by fast, and he manages to make his way into Haurchefant’s bedroom without anyone noticing. He notes the time and realizes he has a few hours before his lover will be even close to finished with work, and he sighs and finds a way to distract himself.

Haurchefant returns to his bedroom to find Pike draped across his linens in one of his shirts, and manages to lock the door before the Miqo’te pounces on him.

Later, Pike lays flat on his stomach on Haurchefant’s bed, purring lightly as his lover combs long fingers through his long blue hair. “I missed you,” he mumbles into the pillow beneath him.

“And I you,” Haurchefant returns. “Your hair is getting quite long, my love.”

“Hmm, yeah. I need to cut it soon. Gets in my eyes a bit.”

“Don’t cut it too short, if I may request. I quite like it like this.” His hands slip from Pike’s hair onto his bare back, massaging into the sore muscles. Pike moans and stretches with pleasure.

“So many scars…” Haurchefant murmurs, fingers tracing a long one on Pike’s back. “What stories they must tell.”

Pike hums. “That one came from falling out of a tree in Gridania,” he says.

Haurchefant laughs lightly. “Did you at least land on your feet?”

“Haha, very funny.”

Haurchefant’s hands move to another, a small round scar on Pike’s side. “And this one?”

“Hmm...pretty sure that’s where I was shot by Gaius’ stupid gunblade.” He sighs into the pillow. “Man, that was funny, I didn’t even notice it was there until Y’shtola started yelling at me for not saying anything.”

Haurchefant’s hands still. “We have very different definitions of funny, my love.” His hands slide up to the burn scar on Pike’s shoulder. “Ah, I remember this one. The first time I felt stress over you. I should have known it would only continue.”

Pike snorts. “You’re lucky you’re already grey, darling.”

“Perhaps.” Hands find three pink, raised lines, that stretch around Pike’s side, a sign of accelerated healing by conjury. He sighs. “My love…”

Pike lifts himself up to face Haurchefant. “Hey, this was me being careful. It’s hard to dodge three dragons at the same time. It was only a scratch.”

“_ Three?! _”

“One of which was Midgardsormr, so really, you should be impressed I escaped with only this much.”

“By the Fury.” Haurchefant groans and rubs a hand across his face.

Pike sighs and draws himself into Haurchefant’s lap. “I’m sorry, my heart. I know you worry.”

Haurchefant wraps strong arms around him. “Yes, I do. But I also understand how important this is to you. I just wish I was around to protect you more often.”

Pike kisses him tenderly. “I love you, dearly.”

“I love you, too.” Haurchefant pulls him in for another kiss. Pike feels a heat rise inside him and deepens it with a fervor.

“Ready for round two?”

* * *

“Don’t touch my brother!”

“Elphina! Stop!”

Crimson stains his vision.

“Elphina!”

“Pike!” Pike’s eyes dart around rapidly, unseeing. All he can see is red, blood, blood on his hands, the scent of it in the air-

A hand lands on his shoulder and he twists, throwing the attacker to the ground. Haurchefant groans with pain from the stone floor, and Pike comes back to himself in horror. 

“Haurchefant!” He scrambles out of the bed and lands on the floor next to Haurchefant. “I’m so sorry.”

Haurchefant looks stunned but otherwise alright. “I knew you were strong, my love, but not quite that strong. I feel a bit jealous.” He sounds a bit wheezy, like he had the breath knocked out of him.

Pike doesn’t laugh. “Are you alright?”

“I should ask you the same.”

Pike helps Haurchefant up. “I…” He can’t think about it. “Just a bad dream.”

Haurchefant doesn’t look convinced. “You were screaming.”

“It was a really bad dream?” Pike sighs at the look he gets. “It’s part of...that. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Haurchefant pulls him into an embrace. “Alright, my love.”

Guilt eats at Pike as they get back into bed. He lays in the dark, but sleep escapes him. He worries his lip before something breaks in him.

“Her name was Elphina.”

Haurchefant’s voice is tired as he speaks. “Who?”

“My sister. Her name was Elphina. That’s who I was dreaming about.” Pike rolls over, so he’s facing Haurchefant. “She was thirteen, and she...she loved singing just as much as I do. And flowers, daisies especially.” Tears brim in his eyes. “And she-she-”

“Shh,” Haurchefant smoothes a hand over Pike’s cheek, brushing his tears away. “You don’t have to say any more, Pike. I know.”

“I miss her every day.” Pike buries his face into Haurchefant’s chest. “And it’s my fault she’s gone.”

Haurchefant holds Pike as he cries into his chest.

* * *

“These dragons are not nearly as cute as Midgarsormr is!” Pike yells to Valliant as he dodges through the monstrous dragon’s feet. He launches an arrow that lodges between two huge scales.

“I really don’t think the Ishgardians will appreciate you calling the father of dragons cute!” Valliant shouts back, raising her shield to block a blast of fire.

“But he is! He’s so tiny!”

“Pike! Focus!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters indignantly, shooting a smaller dragon in the skull. He knocks several arrows and launches them into the sky, multiplying them with his aether. The rain of arrows catches a few of the smaller dragons and they go down, creating an opening for him to race up the tower. He helps the knight there aim the large bolt at the dragon, and it skewers it in the side with a bloom of blood.

Pike launches himself off the tower, taking the steps three at a time. He shoots dragons as he goes, including one creeping up behind Valliant. She hears the body fall and gives Pike a nod, blocking a set of claws on her shield.

He’s already racing to the next tower, and he launches himself up that one as well. It’s the last tower, and he prays as they take aim at the dragon. With a deep breath, he closes his eyes and fires the ballista.

The dragon is caught through the skull, and with a mighty roar it falls. Pike races down the tower once more, watching as the smaller dragons begin to retreat. He launches one last arrow and catches one in the wing, and it falls into the abyss with a shriek.

“Nice shot, kid,” Valliant says, pulling her sword free of a dragon corpse.

“Won’t find better one on the whole continent, I imagine.”

Pike whips around, and Lucia comes to them, sheathing her sword. “Can you stop creeping up on me?” Pike complains. Despite his relative assurance that she either didn’t know who he was or at least wasn’t going to bring it up, she still unnerved the hell out of him.

“I apologize. Lord Haurchefant is looking for you, Pike.” Lucia gestures in the direction of the forces from Camp Dragonhead, and Pike turns to race off with a grin. Valliant reaches out to grab the back of his shirt and he stops short to avoid ripping the fabric.

“Keep it short,” Valliant warns. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Pike grimaces, but nods. The Scions had been spread thin lately, and Pike and Valliant had been doing what they could to shoulder the burden. It was starting to wear on him, but the thought of putting work on the others while they still grieved the loss of Moenbryda was never even close to their minds.

Valliant lets him go and he races off to find Haurchefant. Various knights clap him on the shoulder as he passes or cheer for him, and he greets those he knows by name. He slows as he passes the bodies of those who had fallen that day. Pike kneels before each and sends a prayer for them to pass gently into their next life.

Pike rises after the last body and spots Haurchefant nearby. He’s giving out orders to his knights, directing them to help the injured or establish a patrol, so Pike waits patiently until he’s finished. 

Haurchefant sends the last knight off and spots Pike, and his smile grows wider. Pike takes this as an invitation and draws near, accepting Haurchefant’s hand as he holds it out.

“I am pleased to see you uninjured for once, my love.” Haurchefant says with light humor.

“Glad to be so,” Pike says. “I only have a few minutes to spare, unfortunately.”  


“As do I,” Haurchefant says. “The battle does not end here, unfortunately.” He raises a hand to Pike’s cheek and draws him into a chaste kiss. 

“I don’t know if I’ll have time to come visit soon,” Pike says with a sigh.

“I worry that they work you overmuch, Pike.”

Pike leans against Haurchefant. “No more than I ask for, my heart.”

Haurchefant sighs heavily, and buries his face into Pike’s hair, arms wrapping around him. They stand like that for few moments, until a knight approaches and Haurchefant draws himself back into the role of commander. Pike says his goodbyes and heads back to Valliant.

* * *

“Wilred…”

Pike can feel the tears coming to his eyes as he kneels by the young man’s body. He remembers Riol telling him about Wilred going missing, but he had been so busy…

He takes the kid’s hand, cold and clammy with death, and holds it between his own. Pike remembers his first meeting with Wilred, the passion and drive he held when wanting to reclaim his homeland. And then meeting him in Ul’dah, the bright look on his face as he hears about the Crystal Braves. He was so young...

For a moment, a different young man, with dark hair and blue eyes is overlaid over Wilred’s face. Pike blinks and reality readjusts, as Hoary and Coultenet come up over the rocks. 

“There you are, Pike!” Coultenet says as he comes closer. “Hoary and I were worried when you and your charge failed to return at the appointed hour.”

Hoary comes to kneel next to Pike. He sighs. “Gutted like a hog...but not by one, no.” 

Pike feels sick at the description.

“These wounds were made with a blade. Doesn’t look like he put up much of a fight, either. Nary a mark on his sword or shield.” He looks at Pike.

“You don’t mean…” Pike trails off, looking down at Wilred. Hoary nods.

Pike closes his eyes and sends a prayer for Wilred. He hopes his next life will be comfortable and secure, that Wilred will be able to see the bright future he once dreamed of.

Hoary places a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of the scholar and Wilred’s remains. You should return to the Rising Stones. The Antecedent will want to hear of what happened here.”

Pike nods mutely, letting go of Wilred’s hand. “Please be careful with him. He deserved better than this.”

Hoary squeezes his shoulder.

Pike goes straight for the aether currents, pulling himself to Revenant’s Toll. He makes his way through the bar and the common room of the Rising Stones in a fog, until he pushes through the Solar door without knocking.

Valliant is standing inside, a smile on her face as she turns to look at Pike. His distant expression has it fading soon, and she moves to place a hand on his shoulder.

“Pike, you are returned!” Minfilia says. “Valliant was just reporting on what happened with Tataru. You look troubled. Did the role of escort chafe so?”

Pike shakes his head. “In Urth’s Font, we found-” he chokes a bit on tears. “We found Wilred’s body. He was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Minfilia looks struck. “Are you sure?”

“Hoary agreed that the wounds were consistent with a blade, not a wild animal.” Pike closes his eyes. “There were no markings on his sword or shield, so he was either surprised, or he didn’t think they would hurt him and wasn’t able to draw steel in time.”

Valliant sighs, squeezing Pike’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Pike. I know you recruited him personally.”

“He was a good kid, Vall. Real bright future, and he deserved better than what he got.”

“I know, kid. I know.”

Minfilia closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I’ll contact Alphinaud immediately. He will want to conduct a full investigation, send words to Wilfred’s family…Gods. He was just a boy. Who would want to do this--and why?”

“Have Alphinaud keep me updated on the investigation,” Pike says. His eyes grow eerily cold. “I’ll bring the bastard to justice myself if I have to.”

“Of course, Pike. Why don’t you rest? We have few days to the banquet yet. Go take some time to yourself.”

Pike nods and leaves the Solar. He checks the time. Haurchefant would be finished with work soon, hopefully, and he didn’t want to be alone right now.

The ride to Camp Dragonhead gives him some time to clear his head, feel the pain settle into more of a dull ache than a searing burn. 

Truthfully, he hadn’t known Wilred all that well, the business in Ala Mhigo aside. He had been happy to see him moving on from that incident, sure, and had even been the one to recruit him to the Crystal Braves, but beyond that they hadn’t exchanged more than a few greetings and farewells. 

It was more the injustice of it all that burned at Pike, watching yet another young life be cut down. At least the blood wasn’t on his hands this time.

Haurchefant’s done with work by the time Pike gets there, and he soothes away Pike’s pain with gentle words and loving touches. By the time he comes back to the Rising Stones, the day before the banquet, Pike’s heart feels lighter, even though the sadness remains.

* * *

Pike’s lungs burn with exertion as he races out of the caverns below Ul’dah, Valliant at his side. He feels worn out and run through, but he can’t slow down, so he pulls on whatever last reserves he can and makes his way into the cool air of Thanalan.

He cannot think of Minfilia, or Y’shtola and Thancred, or Papalymo and Yda. He cannot think of the way the Sultana’s eyes bulged as poison raced through her system, or of Raubahn’s arm falling to the ground, severed from his torso in one sweep. He cannot think of Ilberd’s betrayal or the thousand other things that have gone wrong that night, because he will not make it if he does.

Footsteps race up the path near them and Pike draws his bow, making an about face to point an arrow at the sound. He quickly lowers it as he sees Alphinaud and a lalafellan man racing towards them. He nearly cries with relief as he sees the kid, and races to meet them, Valliant a half step behind him.

He crushes Alphinaud in a tight hug, and after a moment thin arms slip around his waist. “Thank the Twelve you’re alright, Alphinaud.”

Alphinaud takes a step back from Pike, and spots Valliant behind him. He smiles with relief. “I am glad to see you safe, my friends. What of the others?”

Pike can only shake his head. _ Don’t think of them, don’t think of them- _

Alphinaud’s face falls. “Damn that man!” He swings his arm with anger, cutting through the air. “Teledji played me for a fool. I thought the Crystal Braves mine until the very moment I felt the blade at my back…”

Pike feels fear grip his heart, but Alphinaud doesn’t betray any hint of injury. He resists the urge to crush him in another hug. Alphinaud’s companion pats him on the arm.

“There will be ample time for soul-searching later,” he says, and his eyes catch Pike’s. “For now, we must put some malms between us and Ul’dah.”

The sounds of a chocobo-drawn carriage come up the path from where Alphinaud and his lalafellan companion came, and Pike draws his bow once more, stepping in front of Alphinaud. Valliant’s at his side in a moment, shield and sword drawn as well.

But the carriage simply carries a man Pike recognizes from months ago: Brennan, the man who spoke with him on the boat. He lowers his bow, but his eyes still watch the man warily.

“Well, would you look who it is! Need a ride?” Brennan grins down at Pike. “I doubt it’ll be half as exciting as the last trip we took--not if I have anything to say about it, anyway!” 

A contingent of soldiers races down a nearby bridge, and Pike looks to his friends. “We need to go.”

Brennan grins toothily. “Let’s not dawdle, eh? All aboard!”

Pike and Valliant see everyone safely onto the carriage. Valliant hops in after Alphinaud, extending a hand down for Pike. He takes it and throws himself into the carriage as it takes off. He keeps his bow accessible as he sits next to Alphinaud.

They make their way through the desert at top speed, and eventually the sounds of the soldiers fades out and Pike feels safe to stash his bow. Valliant stands at the back of the carriage, keeping careful watch with the lalafellan man, who reveals himself as Pipin Tarupin, the vice marshall of the Flames and Raubahn’s son. Pike files that information away to be processed later because he’s really already dealing with a lot.

As they continue to Black Brush, Alphinaud drifts off, leaning heavily on Pike. Pike runs hands through his white hair, staring off into the distance. He feels the tide of emotions rising, but pushes it back. He’ll deal with it when he has a moment to himself, but he needs to be strong for Alphinaud right now.

* * *

It’s daytime before they reach Black Brush, and Pike shakes Alphinaud awake gently as they come to a stop. They all dismount, and Valliant yawns noisily. She looks just as dead on her feet as Alphinaud, but Pike is completely wired. His ears flick about wildly, listening for leather boots or the tell-tale sound of metal scraping in a sheath. 

Pike perks up as he hears Cid’s voice from across the bridge. Cid and Alphinaud converse for a moment, but Pike is too focused listening for enemies to hear much of the conversation until he hears the word ‘Coerthas.’ Relief spreads through him at that, and though he’s still the last to board the _ Enterprise _, by the time they’re in the air he can feel himself relax to a less paranoid state.

Valliant and Alphinaud sleep through the ride to Coerthas, leaving Pike and Cid the only ones awake. Pike makes small talk, trying to keep his thoughts from spiralling down. Cid seems to understand, because he keeps his topics on Ironworks projects and away from anything that might remind them of what they left behind.

The trip to Coerthas is blissfully short, and Pike goes back on high alert as they disembark and see Cid off. It wouldn’t do to make it all this way to be taken out by a wolf or wandering Gobbue, after all.

“We should make for Camp Dragonhead, and speak with Lord Haurchefant.” Alphinaud looks at Pike. “Mayhap...mayhap he will know what to do.”

Pike nods, and they begin the trek through the snow. It’s a short distance to Dragonhead, but by the end Pike can feel himself flagging. Still, he keeps up a strong facade for Alphinaud, and they enter the main hall. Haurchefant looks up at them with a smile, but he can read the atmosphere around them easily enough and it fades. Alphinaud takes the lead, leading the three of them to Haurchefant’s desk. Pike simply crosses to take Haurchefant’s hand as Alphinaud explains what happened to them. 

“‘Tis a sad tale, indeed. I will endeavor to do all I can to help you.” Haurchefant says, squeezing Pike’s hand gently. “Alas... the situation here has grown more complicated in your absence. ‘Twould be best if I explained it in full.”

He keeps one hand in Pike’s as he explains the situation: Ishgard was attacked again, and they won’t be granted asylum until the threat dies down. Haurchefant looks genuinely stricken at not being able to help more. Pike understands, but it still comes as another blow for the day.

Haurchefant smiles. “Do not despair! You are not without allies.” He looks to Alphinaud. “You are more than welcome to shelter here for as long as you wish. Pray think of it as a new headquarters of sorts--the ‘Falling Snows’ or some such!”

Pike laughs a little, despite himself. He squeezes the hand held in his, and Haurchefant gives him a soft smile.

“All frivolities aside, any who come here in search of you will receive no aid from House Fortemps.” Haurchefant stands, dropping Pike’s hand, and he misses the feeling instantly and keenly. “For once, the Ishgardian reputation for inhospitality shall work in our favor.”

Pike just listens to the sound of his voice as he continues talking. It feels like a cup of warm hot chocolate on a cold day to his soul. He nearly drifts off to sleep standing there. Haurchefant shakes his shoulder gently, and Pike starts.

Haurchefant smiles, though worry blankets his gaze. “I can tell you are tired, my love, but pray accompany us to the Intercessory.”

Pike nods and follows Alphinaud out the door and into the cold. It wakes him up a bit, but he still yawns as the knight lets them into the Intercessory. 

To his surprise, he sees Tataru as they enter, and he thinks with guilt that he hadn’t even thought about whether she was safe or not. They have a tearful reunion, and Pike thanks Yugiri, who is standing nearby, for saving her. Yugiri gives a report on the state of things at the Rising Stones and Waking Sands, then departs, with a promise to look for the other Scions. Pike’s heart lightens at the thought of other people at their side and he feels, for the first time, that they may make it through this.

Alphinaud has a minor breakdown, and Pike is thankful that Haurchefant and Tataru manage to bolster him through it, because Pike can feel himself sliding that direction too. Every time he closes his eyes he sees another one of his friends left behind, Pike helpless to stop them. 

He follows Haurchefant back to his (or, rather, their) bedroom, and he slowly loosens his armor and dumps it on the floor. Haurchefant sighs at it and crosses over to Pike.

“Pike.” Haurchefant holds his face between his hands. “You can let go now.”

It’s like he’s been waiting for permission, and maybe he has. Permission not to be the strong one for once, to let himself experience the pain and heartache and sheer exhaustion he’s been pushing back this whole time. The tide swallows him whole, and he clings to Haurchefant as sobs wrack his body.

Haurchefant draws him into the bed, holding him close until Pike cries himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH IT'S FINALLY DONE
> 
> I've been wrestling with this chapter for the last couple of days. It's a lot to cover, from Shiva to the banquet, but I didn't want to split it up between multiple chapters because there's not much character progression, so I had to cut quite a bit more than I wanted to. In the end I think it streamlines the story a bit, however, so worth it. 
> 
> More soon because I am gay, caffeinated and lonely!


	4. Don't You Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't you despair_   
_Though my little words can't compare_   
_I'll always be here with you behind closed eyes_
> 
> Pike keeps his promise.

Pike keeps himself busy with whatever he can as their time at Camp Dragonhead stretches on. At first, he starts doing whatever errands or tasks the knights need done, but after about a week they end up recruiting him to teach the newbie archers. He runs them through the trials he went through at the Archer’s Guild, until even the greenest of them can fire an arrow straight and true each time. The joy of teaching his skills to the next generation surprises Pike, and he even checks to see if any of them have the potential to become bards. They don’t, but Pike teaches a few of them the aether arrow tricks he’s learned.

Teaching only takes up so much time, so Pike starts filling his time with odd tasks, and, failing that, composing. He can feel a new song, one of the _ special _ ones, at the edge of his mind, but the melody slips through his fingers every time he tries to nail it down.

The frustration of the slippery song and the uncertainty of their position eats at Pike. After about a month, Haurchefant finds him feeding sheets of music into the fire in their shared room, an empty look on his face.

“My love?” Haurchefant approaches him carefully, as one might a wild animal caught in a trap. “What are you doing?”

“Burning this terrible song.” Pike shoves the last of the stack into the fire and glares at it. “I’m giving up on it.”

Haurchefant settles a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps you just need a break from trying to work on it. You’ve hardly settled down for a moment since you and your friends arrived.” He gently guides Pike to the chairs by the fire, and sits. Pike sits in front of him on the rug, laying his head back in Haurchefant’s lap.

Haurchefant gently tugs his braids undone and runs fingers through Pike’s long hair. The restless feeling in Pike’s chest settles a bit, and he relaxes into the touch, purring lightly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Pike finally feels ready to speak.

“The waiting is killing me,” he says, and Haurchefant hums in agreement.

“I understand, my love. If there was a way I could make your petition go faster-” His fingers still in Pike’s hair, and Pike twists to look up at him.

“What is it?” Haurchefant has an odd look on his face.

“I…” Haurchefant sighs, pulling his fingers free of Pike’s hair. Pike whines lightly at the loss of touch. “There may be another way to bring you into Ishgard. It would at least give a bit of leverage...but it would ask too much of you.”

“Haurchefant.” Pike turns fully to face him, taking Haurchefant’s hands into his. “Tell me.”

Haurchefant sighs again. “If we were to get married, it would give my father leverage, perhaps, to let you into the city.”

Pike is stunned for a moment. A small, happy fluttery feeling starts in his stomach. “Married.”

Haurchefant looks away from him. “I hate to think of using marriage that way, but yes. If we were to consider Alphinaud your ward, we could get you both into the city, leaving only Valliant and Miss Tataru to worry about, and two wards of House Fortemps is an easier sell to my father than four.”

Pike looks down at their hands conjoined. “I would not…” he clears his throat and a bit of red touches his cheeks. “I would not be opposed to it. If it could help keep them safe…”

Haurchefant looks back at Pike. “I would not be opposed to marrying you either,” he says, and oh, how Pike’s heart sings at that. “I would have to speak with my father and hear his thoughts on this before making a decision. I was due to speak with him tomorrow, at any rate, to explain my request for asylum for you.” He separates one hand to place it on Pike’s cheek, and a soft smile blooms on his face. “But if he agrees, you would be open to it?”

Pike nods, a smile on his face. Part of him feels a bit unromantic, like they’ve negotiated a business deal more than decided to join their lives, but the other part of him is too busy fainting over the thought of _ marrying Haurchefant. _ He surges forward to kiss his lover-no, _ fiance _-and Haurchefant returns the kiss with passion.

That night, Pike dreams of wedding bells.

* * *

Haurchefant departs early in the morning, waking Pike to say goodbye. Pike enjoys the absolute joy he feels for a few moments before getting ready for the day, recruiting Valliant to help him with some shopping.

They’ve already figured that they can visit the city-states with no issue by now, Pike having snuck into Gridania in the dead of night to visit Jehantel only to learn that word of their supposed crimes hadn’t even been spread. It felt odd to him, but he wasn’t about to look a gift chocobo in the beak. Mor Dhona, even, was open to them, though Pike preferred not to go there alone just in case. 

He visits Rowena with a grin, and gives her a list of materials he needs acquired. After he explains what they’re for, she evens gives him a discount (though Pike privately suspects she just gave him the price any normal merchant would charge), and promises to make sure that they’re delivered quickly to the blacksmiths in Limsa and the weavers in Ul’dah.

Pike returns to where Valliant is stood, ever watchful, in the doorway, and she relaxes as he comes close. Ever since that day in Ul’dah, she’s been reluctant to let him out of her sight. His return to Dragonhead after his visit with Jehantel had been met with the most intense lecture she had ever given him.

He drags her to the marketplace, searching for a specific type of leather and thread for his project. Pike shoots a wicked grin to a Crystal Brave standing nearby, who blanches and moves on rather quickly.

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Valliant asks as Pike runs his hands over the silken thread before him. He hums thoughtfully over it, nearly forgetting her question until Valliant pokes him harshly in the side.

“Hey!” He says, dropping the silk and rubbing the spot where she poked him. She just gives him a patient look, and Pike sighs, thinking over his words carefully. He doesn’t want to get her hopes up prematurely, after all. 

“Haurchefant and I had a discussion, last night,” he says finally, passing over the silk for a soft cotton instead. “It may have involved some talk of the future, so I’m...preparing.”

Valliant narrows her eyes. “Good preparing or bad preparing?” she asks, hand twitching next to her blade.

“All good!” Pike hurries to assure her. He drops a few gil into the vendor’s hand and she nods, taking the spool of cotton and leather cord he’s picked out to cut it. “It’s...um. Well. Marriage might be on the table?”

“Oh.” Valliant looks a little stunned, but she shakes her head. “Well, it makes sense. Anyone looking at the two of you would think you were married already. So he proposed?”

Happy feelings aside, Pike would hesitate to call their conversation that night a “proposal.” “No, not exactly. We discussed it, though, and I get the feeling that would happen rather quickly if we _ did _ move forward, so I need to start getting ready.”

“Don’t do anything by half, do you?” Valliant reaches up to take the thread for Pike, who’s already distracted by beads at the next table. “And this is all...what, wedding decorations?”

Pike shrugs. He ponders the glass beads before him. “My culture doesn’t really do decorations, but we do have a lot of traditional wear. So Rowena’s got my orders for the charms I need and the clothes, but I want to hand make the other things.” He picks out a few beads with similar hue to Haurchefant’s eyes, and some complementary colors to go with.

Valliant laughs a little, and he looks at her as he pays for the beads. “What?”

“You’re being absolutely adorable right now.” She says, and Pike turns a bit red. “It’s nice to see you so happy, after everything that’s happened. Hopefully it’s infectious.”

Pike smiles, and they quickly finish up the shopping and head back to Dragonhead. Valliant’s quickly grabbed by some knights for what sounds like either a training session or some form of torture, and Pike brings his purchases up to his bedroom. He takes the length of leather cord and some of the beads out to by the aetheryte crystal and settles on the wall. 

Alphinaud finds him there, dutifully braiding leather together and lacing beads in between. “Have you seen Lord Haurchefant?” he asks, watching Pike’s work with interest.

“He’s in Ishgard today,” Pike says without looking up. “Speaking with his father on our behalf.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news! I suppose I can stop bothering him daily for updates, then.” Alphinaud sits beside Pike.

“He doesn’t mind,” Pike says, looking at Alphinaud. “He knows you’re worried.”

“Full glad am I to hear that, but I shall endeavor to leave him to his work all the same.” Alphinaud looks at the braided length in Pike’s hands curiously. “Speaking of bothering, what are you doing?”

Pike smiles rather wistfully. “Bracelet making. It’s a tradition from my home country. See, the placement and color of each of the beads has meaning. The blue I’m using means ‘protection’, because it reminds us of the sky, and the white is for ‘deep love,’ like Menphina. There’s a lot of different placements, but this one-” Pike knots a blue bead into a complicated series of twists and braids. “-represents strong commitment.”

Alphinaud looks a bit lost, but the cogs in his brain turn quickly and he gives a shrewd look to Pike. “For Lord Haurchefant, then? What do you give the bracelet for?”

“Hmm, well, there’s a lot of reasons. Parents make them for children, a lot, as rewards for accomplishments or as name tags of a sort. I had a few from big hunts, for example. And children often make them for each other as symbols of friendship. But when lovers do it,” and here Pike goes a bit pink in the cheeks, “it’s a bit like the engagement rings your people do.”

Alphinaud’s eyes widen. “Engagement?” He squeaks. “I had not realized you and Haurchefant were so...close. It’s only been a few months, after all.”

“Six months, not counting the first time in Coerthas. And maybe it’s traditionally a bit soon.” Pike sighs a little and ties off the cord, sweeping his remaining beads into his pocket. “But even so, it feels right, you know?”

And it does. For the first time since his and Haurchefant’s conversation that night, Pike feels sure of himself. Even if the circumstances had arisen through less than ideal conditions, Pike loves Haurchefant and can’t imagine his life without him. Maybe it was naïve to think so, but wasn’t that all that mattered in a marriage?

Alphinaud inclines his head in a conciliatory way. “I suppose you would know better than I. No doubt you would keep your own council on this matter regardless.”

Pike laughs, bumping a shoulder into Alphinaud’s. “You’ve got that right.”

He looks out over Dragonhead, and past it, into the distance. From his position, he can see Ishgard, rising high over the highlands. Its imposing figure is shrouded in fog today, but Pike can make out the odd shape here or there. 

Haurchefant had spoken on Ishgard, once or twice. He seemed reluctant to discuss the finer details of his childhood, which Pike could intimately understand. From his vague sketchings, however, Pike could ascertain the feel of the city. It was every bit a match to stereotypes that surrounded Ishgardians in foreign cities, cold and unwelcoming. Though Haurchefant had described his father in warm, if distant, tones and Francel with greater warmth, his view on the rest of the nobles of Ishgard was less so. 

“Are you excited to go to Ishgard?” Pike asks Alphinaud, who starts a bit at the sudden question.

“I’m not sure ‘excited’ would be the wording I would use,” Alphinaud answers. “Nervous, intrigued, perhaps, but I rather hope to avoid excitement there.”

Pike snorts. “No chance of that, around me and Vall.”

“Maybe so. What of you?”

Pike sighs. “I’m worried it will remind me too much of where I came from, so no.”

Alphinaud looks at him with curiosity. “From my studies, I had thought Mystrel a democratic country, not an ogliarchy.”

“That’s not where I meant,” Pike says carefully. He spots a figure coming down the road and stands, recognizing it. “Haurchefant’s nearly back. I should go greet him.”

“Pike, wait-” But Pike’s already jumped off the wall and headed towards the stairs. 

He’s not quite sure why he shared that with Alphinaud. He’s a bright kid, and nosy enough that he might start to put some things together if he can get Valliant to talk. It’s not like Pike _ wants _ anyone to know about his past, except…

Maybe he does.

Pike meets Haurchefant at the gates, and Haurchefant is uncharacteristically quiet after they share greetings. 

“How did it go?” Pike asks, a bit of dread in his heart.

“He said he would have his answer for me on the morrow,” Haurchefant says. “He did not say much about our...other plan, but he did consider it.” His lips quirk in a smile. “He did ask what kind of man I would fight so fervently for.”

Pike feels warmth spread through him. “I hope you made a good impression for me. It wouldn’t do for my future father-in-law to find me boorish.”

“None could think so, my love.” They reach the main hall and Haurchefant’s smile has returned. “I told him you were a bright, shining paragon of virtue, whose very presence drove others to be better than themselves.”

Pike’s heart twists at that. “Oh.”

Haurchefant continues on, unaware of Pike’s feelings. “And then I told him that I both knew and loved you deeply, and that any man worth your love would do everything in their power to help you, in any way they could.”

Guilt settles on Pike like a shroud. “Haurchefant, I-”

“Lord Haurchefant!” Alphinaud shouts, interrupting Pike’s sentence. “Pike told me you were to meet with your father today. What news?”

“Ask me again tomorrow, Master Alphinaud, and I shall have a true answer for you,” Haurchefant says. Pike steps away from him, forcing a smile onto his face.

“I have something to give you later,” Pike says. “Will you be finished with work soon?”

“Unless Yaelle has taken the opportunity to turn into a lazy wretch, I rather think so,” Haurchefant says. “I won’t keep myself too long, my love.”

“Of course.” Pike turns to leave just as Alphinaud arrives, and he ignores the considering look Alphinaud gives him. “I’ll be in our room waiting, then.”

Pike makes his way to his room, and his hand brushes the bracelet in his pocket. He feels the round bead between his fingers, and realizes the message he put unwittingly into the knots.

_ A promise kept. _

* * *

True to his word, Haurchefant is in their room within an hour, bearing mugs of steaming hot chocolate. In familiar setting, they settle into the chairs before the fire with the drinks, which Pike can tell by the smell contains just a hint of whiskey within. Haurchefant merely returns a wink to the appraising look Pike gives him.

“You said earlier that you had something you wished to give me, my love?” Haurchefant asks after they’ve both finished their drinks.

Pike can feel the warm flush of alcohol on his cheeks. “Mm, yes.” The beads catch the light of the fire and dance as he retrieves the bracelet from his pocket. “This is-”

He stops, suddenly, and stands. Twisting the bracelet in his hands, he sighs, and turns away from Haurchefant. “Before I give you this, I need to say something. To keep a promise I made to you, long ago.”

Haurchefant’s voice is puzzled as he speaks. “What promise, my love? I don’t…” But then the realization clicks, and Haurchefant rises to place a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “My love-Pike. You do not need to do this right now-”

“When, Haurchefant? When we’re married and you can’t escape my baggage anymore?” Pike pulls himself free of Haurchefant’s hand and turns. “Perhaps I take it to my grave and you never know the monster you married. But the past has a way of finding us, as you said, and I don’t want-” He can feel tears beginning to brim, and he turns away again. “I don’t want you to hear it from some other source. So no, Haurchefant, I need to do this right now because if I don’t I never will.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and begins.

* * *

Pike L’oatel is fifteen years old, and terrified. He sits in the small lobby of the doctor’s office in his home town of Mithra, the capital city of Mystrel. Behind a small wooden door, his sister lays in a bed, sleeping off the seizure she just had. Doctor Halfbrook stands before him, and delivers the news:

Elphina is dying, and slowly.

It’s the same disease, Doctor Halfbrook says, that his aunt died from. Times have changed since she died, they’ve got a medication to regulate it now, but the medication is expensive and-

And Pike is poor. 

“I wish there was mite I could do for ye, lad, but my hands are tied. I barely make enough to get by m’self. Elphina’s a good kid, it breaks my heart to see her like this.”

Pike nods, but he’s barely even listening, trying to figure out a way to budget this. Ever since their parents had passed, Pike had been supporting Elphina as best he could. He was a dab hand at hunting, one of the finest in the country, but the market for pelts and meat was oversaturated at best so most of their hunts became dinner. Whatever else they needed came from whatever odd jobs he could scrounge up and, in dire cases, the odd gil from busking. Not enough to pay for the medication.

“There may be one option, but it’s a hard one, lad.” Doctor Halfbrook says, scratching his patchy beard. “The Garlean’s been looking for recruits, and the pay’d be well enough to keep her fed and medicated.”

“I’m only fifteen,” Pike says. “And besides that, Elphina’s not even seven. I can’t leave her on her own.”

“I’d be willing to look after her for ye.” The doctor pats Pike on the shoulder. “Yer parents were good folk, helped me out a few times more than they needed to. And as for yer age, well, documents can be faked easy enough. They’re desperate for bodies, they won’t look much close.”

Pike looks to the wooden door. “You’d keep her safe? Keep her from having any more of…” he gestures vaguely.

“Of course, lad. She’d be in good hands.”

And so, the next day, Pike finds himself a recruiter and signs himself up for the military. He ships off to Eastern theater thereafter, and during a revolution in a small country in Othard, he distinguishes himself as an excellent shot.

He is just shy of sixteen when the Spymaster general, Kaeso goe Aper, recruits him as an assassin.

Pike’s not sure what draws the Spymaster to him. Maybe his skill with a bow, or the legendary hunting skills of the Miqo’te.

Maybe it’s the fact that Kaeso knows he can manipulate Pike easily by way of his little sister.

He’s trained in the art of assassination and spying then, and the skills fit him like a glove. Hunting people is, surprisingly, much like hunting animals, and Pike’s always been the best hunter he knows.

Revolutions are his specialty. Not being a Garlean allows him to slip into and out of the ranks of various groups, gathering information quietly and disappearing in the midst of the night. Several revolutions rise and fall in the first two years Pike works under the Spymaster, and rumors of the Cat’s Eye quickly begin to spread, likely started by the Garleans themselves. The threat of him in the night works nearly as well as the arrows do.

Elphina thrives on the medication and Pike convinces himself that it’s worth it, even as he watches innocent people fall beneath his bow. His eyes grow cold and empty and he rarely smiles. He does not sing anymore.

But as he turns nineteen, an assignment comes that no longer allows him to pretend.

Just on the border of Yanxia lies a smaller kingdom called Mizuho. It fell quickly to the encroaching imperial army, but in the spring of 1571, a small uprising begins, and it quickly gains teeth in the form of several other small countries nearby. By summer, ten countries enter into the Mizuho alliance, and due to guerilla warfare and insufficient supplies, they gain foothold after foothold in their fight against the empire.

Pike is sent in to take it down midway into the summer. In a short month, he’s located the top influencers in the alliance and has a strong lead on the leader. He works his way up the hierarchy, and rumors that the Cat’s Eye is in the country begin to demoralize the resistance. Two countries pull their support from it and execute any known rebels to appease Garlemald.

When he finally reaches the leader, Pike is surprised to find a man the same age as himself. Something strikes a chord in him, and for once with opportunity to kill the man from afar, he elects to give him a fighting chance.

It’s still not enough. The young man falls to Pike’s knife, unused to prolonged battle. Pike removes his mask as he bleeds out on the floor, and he kneels before the man. He is crying, and the man simply smiles up at him.

“So young?” He coughs through blood. “You must have been a child when they recruited you, Cat’s Eye.”

“Pike. You deserve to know my name.”

“Pike, then. I am Yuudai. Why do you weep? Your foe is dead.”

“I-I don’t know.”

“I think I do, Pike the Cat’s Eye. You weep because you finally know you do not do the right thing.” Another cough, more blood. “You weep for the child that we both did not get the right to be. You weep, Pike, because when you leave you will have to carry the weight of what you have done, as long as breath lives in your lungs, while I am free.”

“I...”

The young man smiles. Blood stains his teeth, but the smile is beautiful all the same. “Pike the Cat’s Eye, if you weep for the children we were, for the weight you now carry, do something about it. I once wept for the suffering I endured, and then I took those tears and made myself a fine revolution.”

“But-”

“There is no ‘but’ in the world of right and wrong. There is only right, and there is only wrong. Take your tears, Pike the Cat’s Eye, and make yourself a fine revolution. Better than even mine.”

Yuudai passes then, the smile still lingering on his face. Pike, for the first time, prays for his safe passage into his next life.

He takes his tears and he takes his sister, and Yuudai’s words ring in his ears over the sounds of Garlean boots that chase him into the night. Kaeso goe Aper’s blood stains his hands and Elphina’s night shirt. She shakes with cold and fear, and when the boots disappear into the night, she speaks.

“Pike?”

“Yes, Elphie?”

“Where will we go?”

Pike sighs and readjusts his hold on her as he continues to run. His lungs burn. “Have you heard of Eorzea, Elphie? They say that a great dragon guards their lands, that the gods themselves rise up to defend the weak. That all are free there, and that soil sings with adventure.”

“It sounds wonderful, Pike.”

They stop in an abandoned shack in the woods. Pike rests but he does not sleep, clutching the knife and the bow he used to kill the Spymaster in his hands. His eyes never leave the door, and when it bursts open, he takes down three soldiers before the lance catches him in the side, and another two before the pain makes his vision swim.

The decurio’s boot smashes into his face and Pike cries out in pain. His only consolation is the Elphina is hidden away, in the closet, where he hopes they’ll never find her.

“The Cat’s Eye.” The decurio spits and it lands on Pike’s face. Another kick, this time to his side, on the lance wound. Bile rises in Pike’s throat and he screams, hoarsely. “Another filthy savage, not content with the life-” _ kick _ “-the empire so kindly gave you. Just another beast, biting the hand that feeds it.”

The decurio raises his gunblade, pointing it down at Pike. Pike struggles for any energy, but the exhaustion of running and the slowly weeping wound on his side keep him on the ground. He hears the floorboards creak.

A click, and the gunblade is armed. Pike sees a flash of blue in his vision, and in horror, watches as Elphina claws at the man.

“Stay away from my brother!”

“Elphina! Stop!”

The gunblade fires, a splash of crimson in Pike’s face, and his sister is dead. 

Rage fills him, and before the gunblade can even be raised again he tears out the decurio’s throat with his teeth. The lancer from before tries to cut him in the side, but the blow is easily redirected, skewering the man. Three more stand before Pike, and he clutches a knife in his hands and grins a feral, bloody smile. 

Two are cut down, throats severed. The third tries to run, and falls, and Pike is on him in a flash.

“Tell Garlemald that the Cat’s Eye is dead, or I will know, and I will hunt you down like the vermin you are.” Pike slashes the knife across the man’s face, and he runs into the night.

He bandages the wound as best he can before kneeling before Elphina’s body. He clasps one small, cold hand between two of his own and weeps. Yuudai’s words ring in his ears again. _ Take your tears, and make a fine revolution. _

The only thing of Elphina’s he takes is a small lock of blue hair. He braids it into the bracelet on his wrist, the only memento of family he has left. Pike buries her body in a grave far away from the rest of the bloodshed, and places one daisy on top. A quick prayer, and then he makes his way through the woods once more.

By the time he finally makes it to Eorzea, he is twenty four years old. The dragon no longer defends the land, the gods are not the protectors he dreamed of, and the people are not as free as he hoped.

But the soil. Oh, how it sings with adventure.

* * *

By the time Pike is finished, his face is tearstained and his throat hurts. He breathes in deeply. “Do you see, Haurchefant? I’m a _ murderer _. I have killed innocents, young people just trying to make the world better. My sister died because I put her in that position in the first place. There’s nothing I can do that will make up for that.”

Haurchefant is stunned, and he lets out a long, slow breath. Then he rises, and takes Pike into his arms. Pike freezes.

“Thank you for telling me, my love. I understand that this was hard for you.” Haurchefant pulls back, a hand tipping Pike’s chin up to look up at him. “I cannot claim to understand what it was like to be in your position, to make those choices. But you were a _ child _, Pike. Vulnerable and scared and trying to protect the one thing that you had left in the world. I cannot say that I would not make a similar choice.”

Pike shakes his head. “That’s not an excuse-”

“I never said it was. The things you have done, the lives you have taken? That was not right and I will never say it was. But you saw that, you understood what you needed to do.” Haurchefant’s hand drops from Pike’s chin and clutches his hand. “And every moment of your life since then has been committed to saving others, has it not?”

“It doesn’t make up for the things I’ve done.”

“No, it does not. But the countless lives you’ve saved do not become less so because you did horrible things. I meant what I said, Pike, that night after you fought Shiva. I did not fall in love with your past, I fell in love with _ you _. The man who saves lives not because he’s trying to make up for something, or because he wants a reward, but because it’s the right thing to do and there’s no other option for him. We cannot change the past, my love, only continue to move forward.”

Pike would cry, but there’s no tears left for him. “I don’t deserve you.”

Haurchefant pulls him close again. “Perhaps not. But you have me anyway, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, starting this chapter: Yay we're gonna get to HW finally  
Pike's Backstory: :eyes:
> 
> There's a lot of contrived and cliche in this chapter but I still love it. I've built up this backstory for so long in my head and I'm happy with how it came out. Not much to say beyond that.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read and enjoyed this story! We're in the home stretch now folks.
> 
> Slight edit from the future: Elphina's age was originally stated to be almost 10 when Pike was 15. I've adjusted her age down due to timeline issues.


	5. Let Me Dance With Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Let me dance with your eyes,_   
_It will just be for the night._
> 
> Misunderstandings abound.

To go back to a normal routine the next morning feels awkward and stilted for the both of them. They dance around each other as they dress and ready for the day, uncertain of the new dynamic. Pike winces when he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, puffy eyes blinking back at him. He presses fingers against the swollen skin, but it only serves to make them redder.

Pike finds the bracelet where he set it last night on the table, and ties it around Haurchefant’s wrist with a smile. He’d explained the significance of it after he’d finished telling his story, explaining each of the beads and knots with giddiness.

A weird look crosses Haurchefant’s face as he ties the bracelet tight, but it’s gone in a moment and Pike wonders if he imagined it. But other odd behavior he’s noticed since they woke eats at Pike too. Haurchefant still keeps close, brushing fingers across Pike’s arm as he crosses over to get his chain shirt or laying a hand on Pike’s hip as he reaches around to grab the hairbrush. But the touches feel...different, somehow, maybe hesitant, and the kiss as they part for the day is filled with some emotion Pike can’t place.

Maybe it’s waiting on his father’s answer? The uncertainty combined with the emotional night before has Pike filled with restless energy himself. He forgoes teaching for that day, choosing instead to run around doing whatever tasks he can. Several nasty monsters fall to the anxiety that brews inside him.

It’s Alphinaud that spots the courier from Ishgard first, and he finds Pike just as he’s coming back from felling a giant, gasping out the news between panting breaths. It’s clear he’s run as fast as he can to let Pike know, and it’s endearing, the excitement and anxiety writ on his face. 

Pike thanks him with a grin and tries not to run back out to do another quest. It’s a hard won battle, but he manages to distract himself and Alphinaud, who looks near about to burst with anticipation, with locating Valliant. She’s demonstrating fighting techniques to a couple of the female knights, most of whom are swooning rather obviously. Valliant executes a particularly complicated maneuver that decapitates the training dummy cleanly. It’s head rolls to a stop before Pike.

“Pike, Alphinaud!” Valliant says with a grin, stowing her sword. Disappointment colors the faces of her adoring crowd. “Finally decided to pick up sword fighting?”

Pike’s nose wrinkles. He’s much more comfortable on the back lines, taking potshots and staying clear of wide swings. “No thanks, Vall. Alphinaud saw the courier from Ishgard earlier, we thought we should let you know.”

Valliant’s eyes widen and her grin gets wider. “Finally! I’m getting a bit bored hanging around here. Not that you don’t make excellent company,” she says to the women behind her, and one of them goes bright red.

Valliant says her goodbyes and joins Alphinaud and Pike. Pike nods to the knights. “Your fans are going to miss you.”

“Ah, they’ll get over it.” Valliant waves a hand in a lazy gesture. “Where’s Tataru?”

“The Intercessory, I believe, working on some administrative tasks.” Alphinaud leads the procession, and they do indeed locate Tataru inside. She reacts much the same as all of them to the news, and they settle in to wait.

Pike tries to keep up conversation with the rest of them, but his anxious thoughts keep bouncing between the awaited message and Haurchefant’s strange behavior that morning. He tries to come up with reason after reason for the hesitation in Haurchefant’s touch, but he can’t help but wonder if the issue is his own confession from the night before.

His mind rockets back to the conversation as Alphinaud begins to talk about...not going to Ishgard, for some reason? Pike can’t place the sudden change of heart and it shakes him from his anxiety. 

“Alphinaud, what do you mean?” He asks.

Alphinaud sighs. “So long as we have these specious accusations hanging over us, we will struggle to achieve anything. You must go to Ishgard, as Tataru proposed. I will return to Ul'dah and set things right.”

They turn together as the door opens. “Pray do not be so hasty, Master Alphinaud.” Haurchefant smiles at them as he walks in, and Pike studies his expression for any hint of bad news. Haurchefant’s arm encircles Pike’s waist as he draws close, and the earlier hesitation of his touch is absent. “Full well do I understand your desire to clear your names. But now is not the time for drastic action. You yet have allies upon whom you can rely. There is no need to act alone.”

“Yes...yes, of course.” Alphinaud looks chagrined. “Pray forgive my impatience.”

Haurchefant smiles, and in that moment Pike knows, even without Haurchefant’s subsequent confirmation. “I bring tidings. Count Edmont has decreed that the three of you be taken in as wards of House Fortemps. Under our patronage, you shall be granted access to the city proper. Pray consider our manor your new headquarters, from which you may gather information and plan how best to proceed. Needless to say, should any of your missing allies be found─as I am certain they shall─they will of course be welcome to join you there.”

A collective sigh of relief rings out through the room, and Pike breaks into a wide grin. He leans into Haurchefant’s side, who leans down close to Pike’s ear. “Now we don’t have to do anything rash,” he says, and suddenly the good feeling spreading through Pike is halted, ice running through his blood instead.

He fights to keep the smile on his face, keeps his form from stiffening in Haurchefant’s grasp. He barely follows the track of the conversation from then on, listens as they discuss plans for their travel to Ishgard but doesn’t contribute beyond a barest nod.

At first opportunity he pulls himself from Haurchefant’s grasp. Pike feels like he’s about to come out of his skin, the world tilted on its axis. He had thought they were so happy…

He doesn’t look at Haurchefant as he leaves, with a terrible excuse. He’ll talk to him later, communicate _ later _, when he’s processed the emotions and he feels like he can get through it without breaking down.

* * *

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

“Pike?”

“Yes, Alphinaud?”

_ Thwack. _

“I just...came to update you on when we plan to leave for Ishgard.”

_ Thwack. _

“Tomorrow, right? I heard you mention it to Tataru.”

_ Thwack. _

“Ah...yes. I trust you will have your things ready?”

_ Thwack _.

“Of course.”

“Right, then. I shall see you in the morning when we depart.”

Pike’s boots crunch in the snow as he makes his way to the striking dummy, pulling his arrows out of the soft cotton and wood. The piece of parchment labelled “Haurchefant” stuck into the chest with a dagger flutters in the wind.

One of his students tries to talk to him next, but is clearly unnerved at the advice given on her form dictated without looking away from the dummy. He doesn’t need to look, Esmee has been dropping her elbow every time she raises her bow.

_ Thwack. _

“You’re being childish, Pike.”

_ Thwack. _

“Maybe.”

_ Thwack. _Valliant sighs. “If you have a problem with your fiance, kid, just talk to him.”

_ Thwack. _The arrow flies a little off his aim. “He’s not my fiance, Vall.”

_ Thwack. _

“Ah, I see. He didn’t propose fast enough?”

_ Thwack. _

“Try implied he didn’t want to get married at all. I poured my heart out to him last night, told him things that I’ve never told anyone, and he…” Pike lowers the bow for a moment, and looks Valliant in the eye. “Today he said he was glad we ‘wouldn’t have to do anything rash.’”

_ Thwack. _The arrow skewers the Haurchefant dummy right between the eyes.

Valliant steps in front of him as Pike goes to knock another arrow. He lowers the bow instead, and she throws arms around his shoulders. “Oh, Pike. I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.”

His breath hitches a bit as he hugs her back, burying his face in her shoulder. “I don’t know, Vall. He was acting so weird this morning, and then he found out we didn’t have to get married and it’s like all the weirdness disappeared.”

“Didn’t have to get married?”

Pike sighs into her shoulder. “We had this plan, in case Count Edmont wouldn’t or couldn’t take us all in as wards, because...well, they let spouses in.”

Valliant pulls out of the hug and looks at Pike. “You, the biggest romantic, were going to marry for _ duty _.”

“Well, when you put it like that...but I _ wanted _to marry him, Vall. More than anything. I even made him a proposal bracelet.” Pike steps back from her, stashing his bow. His arms cross his chest like a cage, keeping him locked away from the tears that want to spill over. “I thought he...I don’t know. I thought he wanted that, too. Guess I was wrong.”

Valliant’s expression is soft as she looks at him. “Kid, I don’t know what’s going through his head. Or what you told him. But you need to talk to him about it. You can’t expect him to read your mind on this.”

Pike sighs and drops his arms from their crossed position. “I know. I _ was _planning on talking to him, just...later. After I felt better.”

Valliant looks at the striking dummy. “That might have helped you, but I’m pretty sure it’s got him scared shitless.”

Pike cringes. It had felt good in the moment, true, but Haurchefant had surely heard about it by now, and doubtless he had noticed Pike’s less than subtle fleeing earlier...who knew what Haurchefant was thinking, now.

Pike trudges over to the dummy and rips the dagger out. The parchment scrap flutters to the ground, and Pike balls it up to dispose of later. “I’ll go talk to him.” He looks down at the dagger in his hand. “Maybe after getting rid of all my weapons so he doesn’t think I want to kill him.”

* * *

Haurchefant paces the floor of their bedroom anxiously, wearing a tread into the carpet. His mind turns over the events of that day, searching for whatever comment he could have said to put Pike into such a mood. Nothing jumps out at him, and he hadn’t even noticed Pike’s mood until he’d left the Intercessory that morning. At first, he had thought that Pike was simply still processing the emotions from the night before, desperate for a reprieve from the reminder of the burdensome memories. But a young archer had nervously asked why Haurchefant’s name was pinned to a striking dummy that his partner was repeatedly and viciously attacking with arrows, well. That had rather put a damper on the good mood Haurchefant had started the day off with.

The door to the bedroom creaks open and Haurchefant whips around, nearly toppling from the speed. Years as an ungainly youth had made him accustomed to righting clumsy moves, however, and he manages not to fall on his face as Pike enters the room.

At some point, Pike had changed from his customary armor into more casual clothing, and even his bow was gone. It was unusual for him to be out of his armor in the daytime, always ready in case something cropped up that needed his immediate attention. It was like he was trying to look...unthreatening. Which was even more unusual, as Haurchefant would never fear Pike hurting him. Unless…

Unless Pike was worried that Haurchefant would think that, because of what he had been told.

The thought spurred Haurchefant to action, and he crosses the room, wanting to take Pike into his arms and kiss any of that line of thinking away. But Pike steps back from him, crossing arms over his chest. Haurchefant stops short, and he opens his mouth to speak.

“Pike-”

“Haurchefant-”

Haurchefant cuts himself off, and gestures for Pike to continue. Pike sighs and walks away from him, to stare out the window at the falling snow. He looks like...like the night after the first time he and Pike had slept together, when he rejected Haurchefant summarily. Haurchefant’s heart is in his throat, and every bit of guilt and fear from that morning comes racing into his mind with abandon.

Pike speaks, finally. “What did you mean,” he says, voice soft and vulnerable, “when you said we wouldn’t need to do anything hasty?”

Haurchefant blinks and his thoughts stop short. Of all things, that hadn’t even been considered as a potential spot of tension between them. “...Exactly what I said?” Confusion riddles his tone. “No hasty rushing into marriage. I had rather thought you would be glad to hear that, my love.”

Pike’s hands grip the windowsill, and he doesn’t turn around. “Why would you think that?” The hurt is clear in his voice.

“I could be forgiven, I think, for thinking that a proposal in the sense of duty was far from what you would want.”

Pike laughs, though it’s without humor. “That’s what you thought it was to me? Duty?”

Haurchefant feels frustrated. Hadn’t Pike said exactly that? “When you said ‘if it would keep them safe’ in response to a _ marriage proposal _, yes, I did.” The frustration leaks into his tone. “Your first thought in that moment wasn’t even me but your friends. It did not strike me as more than duty to you.” And that had hurt, but Haurchefant had made his peace with it. He had been taking things as slow as possible with Pike, letting him set the pace, letting him move things forward when he wanted. He had lost Pike once when pushing him too far, and he didn’t want to do it again.

Pike finally turns, and tears are brimming in his eyes. “Take the bracelet off.”

Haurchefant blinks in confusion once more. “What?”

“You heard me. Take the damn bracelet off.” Pike marches over and holds his hand out for it.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Haurchefant says, and he’s tremendously hurt by whatever has Pike acting like this. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“_ What’s going on?! _” Pike shouts, and the tears are falling now, but his eyes are angry. “I don’t know, Haurchefant! Because apparently I just act out of duty!” Pike swipes at his arm for the bracelet, and Haurchefant moves it out of the way, even as he feels stunned by Pike’s words. “I laid my soul bare for you, Haurchefant, let you into the cracks and insecurities that I carry every day. But that’s just duty to you?”

Haurchefant can only stare down at Pike. “Pike…”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You act weird all morning, you’re happy when we don’t have to get married...you think the deepest parts of my soul so insignificant as to be just another mark on the list, a thing I need to confess before marriage..” Pike collapses to his knees, like all the fight has gone out of him. “I can’t believe you would think so _ little _ of me.”

Haurchefant kneels to the ground and takes one of Pike’s hands into his own. “My love, I...I didn’t think you thought of _ that _ as duty. But when you told me about yourself, all I could think was that I had forced you into this.” Haurchefant looks away. “I pushed the idea of a sham marriage on you, pushed you to feel you needed to _ confess _ yourself to me, when you weren’t ready.” He looks at the arm with the bracelet, catching the soft hints of light from the room. “Pushed you to give me a symbol of your love. And the last time I pushed you, I nearly lost you forever. And I can’t lose you, Pike.”

Pike pulls closer to Haurchefant. “I-” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “So not duty, then. You think my love so fragile to break under a little pressure from you.”

Haurchefant shakes his head. “I thought...that you would take this marriage as a way to save your friends, and you would grow to resent me. For not being free to live as you please.”

Pike laughs a little. “You think highly of yourself, my heart. You cannot chain me down anymore than my Garlean masters could. So believe my words when I say I _ choose _ to stay, I _ chose _to tell you my past. You give me choices, give me freedom when no one else has. How could I not want to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“Then one more choice, my love.” Haurchefant stands, pulling Pike to his feet. He crosses to the place he hid the box that had arrived with the courier that morning. Fingers brush over velvet and he pulls the box out of the false drawer in the desk. “I had intended this for later, when you-when I _ thought _ you would want to.”

Pike’s eyes widen as Haurchefant drops to a knee. Haurchefant can feel his heart hammer in his chest, and he opens the box to reveal a silver ring, inlaid with an engraving of daisies and small moonstones and sapphires. 

“Pike L’oatel, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Pike surges forward and knock Haurchefant to the ground with a passionate kiss. “Of course, you fool,” he whispers against Haurchefant’s lips.

Haurchefant smiles and finagles the ring out from the box and onto Pike’s finger. “I am sorry, my love. Forgive me?”

Pike looks at the ring on his finger, and he kisses Haurchefant softly once more. “I think I can manage.”

* * *

Pike yawns as he shoves the last of his clothes into his traveling bag. The morning light shines dewy into the bedroom, catching one of the sapphires and sending a soft smile onto his face. He feels giddy all over, slinging the traveling bag over his shoulder, and he keenly misses Haurchefant, who had left the night before to prepare the manor for their arrival. 

After a few rounds of rather intense make-up/holy-shit-we’re-actually-engaged sex, of course.

The pack is light, Pike having not been able to recover much after the banquet. He had snuck in to the Rising Stones exactly once to gather up more than one change of clothes and his cold weather gear with Valliant, and the aftermath had left him so nervous he could barely sleep through the night.

Pike meets Valliant going down the stairs, and she notices his good mood. “Make up with the lover, then?” She says with a nudge.

Pike grins widely and flashes his hand. “Fiance, actually. For real this time.”

Valliant claps a heavy hand on his shoulder with enthusiasm. “I knew it would work out! When is the wedding?”

Pike goes still. “Uh...I haven’t thought of that yet? Soon, I hope. God, the planning _ alone _…” He groans and Valliant laughs heartily at him, patting him on the shoulder gently. 

“You can keep it small?” Valliant tries, though she’s still chuckling a little.

“Are you kidding, Vall? He’s a freaking noble! It’s going to be at _ least _ every House in Ishgard. I’ve been to these kinds of weddings before, they’re massive.” They’ve reached the outside, by that point, and Alphinaud overhears the last line from where he stands near the door. His keen eyes catch the ring on Pike’s finger.

“So you’re moving forward, then?” Alphinaud asks pointedly. Pike nods, the excitement coming back at the reminder, and Alphinaud sighs. “I should hope this won’t cause any issues with the nobles in Ishgard.”

Pike eyes him. “Do you ever think of anything beyond politics? Let me be happy for a little bit before I have to start worrying about manners and etiquette again.”

Alphinaud looks properly chastised. “My apologies, my friend. And, my congratulations. You and Lord Haurchefant seem quite happy together.”

A soft smile breaks onto Pike’s face. “Yeah, yeah we are.” He pauses for a beat, thinking, and then says: “Do you think people will call me Lord Pike once I’m married to him?”

Valliant starts laughing, and soon Alphinaud and Pike join in. They joke back and forth as Tataru joins them and they begin their journey to the Gates of Judgement and cross the Steps of Faith. 

The first step into Ishgard is breathtaking. The city stretches malms into the air before them, tall spires reaching into the heavens. The stonework is impressive, if cold, and the large cathedral’s bright stained glass shines over the city as a whole.

But that is not what first catches his attention. No, what he notices are the signs of the wyvern’s attack, the deep gouges and blackened stone. And, before even all of that: the hungry eyes of a child who plays in the lower area.

He knows that look too well, having lived with it for years. It fills him with an odd feeling, not quite shame for having enough now and not quite pride for having left that life behind, but a swirling mix of the two. It had been a while since he had been confronted with such a stark reminder of his own life, not since meeting refugees in camps outside Ul’dah. 

The others keep him moving forward, and he loses sight of the child after a moment. The feeling fades but lingers gently as he meets the manservant who guides them to the Fortemps manor. The manor is in the upper district, and the stark contrast of the Brume below is jarring enough that even Alphinaud comments on it.

Haurchefant waits for the outside the manor, and takes Pike’s hand in his as they near. Pike’s heart flutters with joy at the sight of him.

“‘Tis good to see you in Ishgard at last!” Haurchefant says, gesturing broadly with his free hand. “I cannot tell you how long I have waited for this day. Allow me to present to you my family home: Fortemps Manor! I should like nothing more than to show you around, but everyone is gathered to receive you. Come, my friends! Introductions must be made!”

Anxiety shoots through Pike at that. He’d nearly forgotten that today was the first time he’d be meeting his future in-laws. They certainly knew a lot more about him than he knew about them and it had him feeling a bit cagey.

The servant takes their coats as the step into the warm manor house, and another whisks away their bags. It’s gorgeous, with rich carpets, bright tapestries, and high vaulted ceilings. Pike tries his best not to gape at the luxury as they’re guided to the sitting room.

Count Edmont stands in the middle of the sitting room, and the first thing Pike thinks when he sees him is that Haurchefant looks so much like him. Haurchefant clearly has his mother’s hair, but the eyes are Edmont’s to a T, even down to the slight upturn in the corners with a smile.

Haurchefant steps away from Pike, greeting his father with a slight bow. “My lord, I have returned with the Scions,” he says. It feels so formal to Pike, very much unlike how a son should greet a father, and he’s reminded that he’s stepped back into the world of nobles. 

Pike and Alphinaud copy Haurchefant’s movement, and Tataru and Valliant follow after a moment. Haurchefant steps back to stand next to Pike once more, but doesn’t touch him save a small brushing of the back of their hands.

Edmont’s smile is just as warm as his son’s as he greets them. “I hope your journey was not too taxing. I, Count Edmont de Fortemps, do bid you welcome. As wards of House Fortemps, you shall be afforded every courtesy. My home is your home.”

Alphinaud charges ahead with the political talk immediately, not one to let things lie for even a moment. Pike tunes him out slightly, instead looking over to the two young men standing nearby. He can tell by their resemblance to Count Edmont that they must be Haurchefant’s brothers, though their names escape him at the moment. The older of the two’s expression is carefully neutral, and he doesn’t acknowledge Pike’s eyes beyond a brief nod. The younger catches his look and grins, sending a wink his way.

A subtle nudge from Haurchefant brings Pike around to the conversation again, and he catches back up as Count Edmont suggests they take a tour of the city. Pike is glad for an excuse not to be stuck in the Fortemps manor for too long, though as he realizes Haurchefant won’t be going with them he feels a bit put out. 

“I must be on my way back to Camp Dragonhead, my friends,” Haurchefant says as they ready to depart. “I fear Yaelle will be most agitated if I leave my own work to her much longer.”

Pike nods, and Haurchefant gives him a gentle chaste kiss before he leaves, ahead of their group. Pike can feel his cheeks redden a bit at that, something about showing affection in front of Haurchefant’s father making him embarrassed.

He’s happy to escape into the cold, and as they tour Ishgard, Pike feels himself relax more. The markets are familiar territory for Pike, and the Forgotten Knight even more so. Tataru seems to agree, staying behind in the bar when they leave.

They return to the manor afterwards, and Pike’s glad for it. He’s starting to feel the travel of the day. He tries not to fall asleep where he stands as Alphinaud and Edmont speak, and doesn’t argue when Alphinaud volunteers them for work. He hadn’t expected to sit on his arse around a manor, anyway.

Pike isn’t _ exactly _pleased to be working with Haurchefant’s brothers, even if Valliant’s coming with him. He gets the feeling that Artoirel already dislikes him and Emmanellain is...a bit spoiled, to put it nicely. But Edmont seems to at least respect him for his actions, and that sets Pike well enough at ease.

He manages to escape to bed after that, each of them being led to personal rooms in the Manor. His armor and weapons are already set into racks in the room, and a set of comfortable yet warm sleep clothes is laid out for him. It should make him uncomfortable to have people doing everything for him, but Pike’s just grateful at the moment, tired as he is.

He sleeps for a few hours, but apparently the unfamiliar settings make it hard for him to stay asleep. He sighs, and throws the blankets off himself, wrapping himself in a dressing robe. Pike feels odd for about five seconds about wandering the manor while everyone else sleeps, until his need to _ move _ overwhelms him.

He prowls the length of the manor, wandering down random corridors until he hears someone moving around in a room. Pike creeps close, peeking through a wide doorway, and he spots Count Edmont in what seems like a library, paging through a book. Edmont looks up, and spots Pike at the doorway.

“Ah, Master L’oatel!” He says, with a grin. Pike feels a small blush on his cheeks at getting caught spying. “Does sleep escape you this night, as well?”

Pike nods, stepping into the room. “I can never sleep well in unfamiliar situations. Too long as an adventurer, I think.” Too long spent looking for Garleans over his shoulder, more like, but Edmont certainly doesn’t need to know about that.

Edmont nods, and he shuts his book. “Would you care to join me for some tea? It can help, I find, to settle the nerves. Although,” his smile takes on a joking edge. “You may find that your tastes have shifted to hot chocolate now.”

Did...did he just make a joke about…

Pike shoves the thought _ immediately _ out of his head, though it serves to redden his cheeks further. “Tea is fine, thank you.”

He follows Edmont to the kitchen, and Edmont sets about preparing some tea. It’s almost odd, to see a Count making something for himself, but Pike appreciates it. It makes him feel more human.

Edmont passes him a teacup, and the sweet smell of chamomile fills Pike’s nose. He sets the cup down, still to hot to drink, and as they sit in silence Pike finds himself playing nervously with the ring on his finger.

The ring clearly catches Edmont’s eye, and he nods to it. “May I?” he asks, and Pike nods and hands it over. Edmont examines it for a few moments, turning it over in the candlelight. “It’s quite beautiful,” he finally says, handing it back over.

“Yes, it is.” Pike feels a fond smile grow on his face. “Your son has excellent taste.”

Edmont hums thoughtfully. “Do you include yourself in that assessment?” he asks, taking a sip of his tea.

Pike sighs and looks off to the side, slipping the ring back on. “I...I’m not quite sure. There are far better people in this world than I, but...but if he loves me, who am I to tell him no?”

Edmont’s cup of tea clinks gently against the saucer as he sets it down. He levels his gaze at Pike, and its intensity makes him freeze. “I have been wondering,” he says, voice neutral, “what kind of person my son has fallen so completely in love with. Haurchefant has always been...prone to idealism and romanticism, ever since he was young. I had my reservations when he first told me of you.”

Pike looks down at the cup in front of him, swirling the tea within around. “I can imagine some random adventurer suddenly becoming your son’s fiance would give you pause.”

“Mm, quite. And the way he spoke of you...it seemed like to hero worship.” Edmont takes another sip of his tea, letting that comment sit for a moment before continuing. “So, tell me, Pike L’oatel: what makes you worthy of my son?”

Pike thinks for a moment, sipping his tea. The chamomile coats his tongue. “I think, Count Edmont, if you had asked me that two days ago, I would tell you I’m not worthy of him. He is good and kind and loving, and I did not consider myself those things. I...still don’t, in all honesty.” He looks up at Edmont, meeting his stare with strength. “But I don’t think it’s necessary to. Haurchefant gets to decide whether or not I’m worthy of him, and he did. So if you want to know why, ask him.”

Edmont sits on that for a moment, then smiles. “I don’t think I will need to, Master L’oatel.”

Pike wrinkles his nose at that, though the subtle approval warms him. “Please, call me Pike. I’m marrying your son, you should be able to call me by my name.”

Edmont nods. “Pike, then. I shall give you leave to do the same. And since you so cleverly brought it up, the wedding...I suppose you’ll need assistance in planning it?”

Pike groans and his head hits the table in front of him, to Edmont’s laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY we should be done with angst for the moment.
> 
> Not much else to say about this chapter but it did take me longer than the others? Not sure why but I think my brain enjoyed taking a break for a little bit. Next chapter will be out soon I think, I'm already in the process of writing it. If I have my estimations correct and no characters decide to throw me a last act emotional monologue, I've got about three chapters left of this story. And then I move onto the next stories for Pike!
> 
> Oh and before I forget! If y'all noticed last chapter, I talked about Pike having cultural wedding traditions! I'm playing a bit of Calvinball with lore because I made up Pike and his character before I paid any attention to canon lore, but because of that I've developed a _lot_ of worldbuilding elements that probably won't make it into any works. So if you want to hear more about them please come yell at me on [tumblr!](thedayofstoryandsong.tumblr.com)


	6. It Will Just Be You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Through this cold metal screen_   
_It will just be you and me._
> 
> Pike is reckless and foolhardy. Haurchefant loves him all the same.

In the morning, Pike and Valliant leave with Artoirel, bound for the Western Highlands. Despite the less than...pleasant company, Pike finds himself excited. It’s been a while since he’s had a new place to explore and discover, and his adventurer’s heart sings at the chance. He’s even more excited when he realizes he’s going to get to fly there, not by airship but by _ chocobo _.

Pike loses all sense of decorum when he enters the stables with Valliant and Artoirel, cooing over the chocobo that’s been hired to take him to the Highlands. The black feathered bird preens under the attention, giving a soft _ kweh _ as Pike runs careful fingers over its beak.

“Is he...always like this?” Artoirel asks Valliant.

Valliant laughs. “You don’t know the half of it. Kid _ loves _ his chocobos. First thing he did when we left Ul’dah was make sure his personal one was alright.”

Pike finishes his cooing and turns excitedly to the stablehand, asking questions a mile a minute about their care and the specific tack they use. Artoirel lets him get a few answers before cutting in, his expression trying for neutral but coming off more bemused than anything.

“Master L’oatel, we do need to get going. It would not be proper to make Ser Redwald wait on our arrival.”

Pike shakes himself and draws back into the carefully crafted “I’m the Warrior of Light and I know what I’m doing” persona he’s adopted. “Right, of course. My apologies, I’ve never encountered a flying chocobo before.”

Artoirel smiles, the first genuine one Pike has seen from him. “I would never have guessed,” he says.

Pike flushes a bit and the chocobokeep takes over, helping them take the birds out to the launching platform and teaching them the basic porter commands. The chocobo already know the way to the Highlands, apparently, so all Pike has to do is sit back and enjoy the ride.

And enjoy it he does. The feeling of the cold wind on his face fills him with joy, and the chocobo flies faster than anything on the ground. When he lands in the Highlands, Pike’s decided it’s his new favorite feeling in the world.

Artoirel nods to him when they land, having arrived before Pike and Valliant. “The world looks quite different when viewed from the back of an airborne chocobo, does it not?” He says, and his expression shifts to a wistful one. “I still find the experience strangely liberating... To business. Ser Redwald is in charge here. He should be expecting us.”

They find Ser Redwald easily enough, as he’s standing relatively close by. He gives Pike and Valliant appraising looks, and turns to Artoirel. “It has been far, far too long, Lord Artoirel. And who might your companions be?”

“Pray forgive us our lateness, Ser Redwald,” Artoirel says, sweeping a hand out to gesture at Pike and Valliant. “I present to you Valliant Skye, ward of House Fortemps, and Pike L’oatel, my brother Haurchefant’s fiance.”

Pike’s thankful for the cold air biting at his face, because he can pass off the flush that colors his cheeks as a sign of the frost. For some reason, the introduction feels like a dig at his skills, though he may just be more accustomed to being introduced as the Warrior of Light by now.

Ser Redwall’s eyes widen at the introduction, but he doesn’t comment beyond a reference to Lord Drillemont. He launches into a description of the Highlands, and Pike tries his best to pay attention, though the pull of adventure and exploration calls to him.

Unfortunately for him, he’s stuck playing pest control for the time being, though the work goes fast when split between him and Valliant. Pike tries not to show off _ too _ much for the nearby knights, but he still gets a few considering looks as he fells one sprite after another.

The next few hours pass easily with several more tasks like that, and by the time Pike returns to Ser Redwald he’s buzzing with energy. Even being sent out to the Pike (which amused him) wasn’t enough for him.

Ser Redwald looks happy to see him, and soon Pike understands why: a reconnaissance party has gone missing while searching for heretics. They split into search parties, and Pike draws the short straw of being assigned with Artoirel, while Valliant is with one of the other knights.

Valliant seems uncomfortable to leave him with Artoirel, and she fixes the young lord with a glare as she speaks. “Keep him safe, alright? He’ll go charging off by himself at the first opportunity.”

“I’m an adventurer, Vall, not a misbehaving dog,” Pike grumbles as he checks the tuning on his harp. 

Valliant ignores him, glaring even more fiercely at Artoirel, and the normally stoic young man pales just a bit under her gaze. He agrees, and at that they set off on chocobo for their assigned location. 

After making their way down the cliffside with still no sign of the party of knights, they enter the abandoned camp. Artoirel starts off for one side, and as Pike makes to follow him, he hears a muffled cry on the wind.

He proves Valliant right, not even waiting to call for Artoirel before racing in the direction of the shout. With a few quick shots, the heretics surrounding an injured knight fall, and Pike quickly races in to attempt to patch him up. 

Artoirel arrives soon after Pike’s finished wrapping a bandage around one of the more obvious wounds. “Are you all right?” he asks, sheathing his sword at the sight of Pike clearly not in danger. “I heard sounds of a struggle.”

“Bit of one, yeah,” Pike says, finishing up with the knight. “Three hostiles, but I took them out easy enough. Can you stand?” The last part is directed to the injured knight, and he shakes his head.

Artoirel makes an impressed noise. “Three heretics slain and one knight saved, just like that. You certainly live up to your reputation, Master L’oatel.” He kneels before the knight. “What happened here, ser? Is there no one else?”

The knight explains what happened, though slowly through his injuries, and Pike starts scanning the nearby area for any more hostiles or signs of tracks. The knight has a promising lead on the heretics and Lady Iceheart, but if he’s injured, one of them will need to take him back to camp.

“Lord Artoirel,” Pike says, catching his attention. “Take the knight back to Falcon’s Nest. I’m an expert tracker, they won’t be able to outrun me even in the snow. And as we’ve seen, I can keep myself plenty safe.”

Artoirel looks torn. “Mistress Skye will be most displeased if I let you go off on your own…”

“She’ll understand. I’m certainly not letting my fiance’s brother go off to face heretics alone.”

Artoirel nods, an odd look on his face at that. Pike disregards it and sets off towards the north.

* * *

Pike’s conversation with Iceheart weighs on his mind as he exits the outpost. To his surprise, the knights have already arrived and set about investigating the outside, and Artoirel stands with Valliant overseeing the efforts. He’s the first one to spot Pike, and he rushes over with Valliant at his heels.

“Master L’oatel! Praise Halone, you are alive! We came as swiftly as we could, but I see we are too late…” Artoirel is swiftly cut off by Valliant cuffing Pike around the head.

“You’re a gods damned idiot, Pike,” She says, and through the anger Pike can see fear in her eyes. “Running off on your own like that! It’s like you have a death wish.”

Pike shrugs, and something in his side pulls painfully. Huh, maybe the lance hit from earlier was a bit deeper than he first thought. “There wasn’t really another option, Vall. Iceheart and her ilk are dangerous, and the trail would’ve disappeared before backup arrived.”

“Exactly why you shouldn’t be facing her alone!” Valliant’s glare could put a hole through his head. “I’m too young for grey hairs, kid.”

“...Your hair is white.”

“You know what I mean.” Valliant’s lost the glare, worry overtaking her expression. She runs a hand through her hair. “I...I was so _ worried _, Pike.”

Pike bites his lip, looking away. “I know. I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t see any other option.”

Valliant draws him into a tight hug, and he gasps from pain as she squeezes his injured side. She pulls back instantly. “You’re hurt! We need to get you to a chirurgeon.”

“It’s just a broken rib, Vall. I’ll live.”

“Like hell you will-”

Artoirel cuts in there, before the conversation can devolve any further. “You have dealt our foes a telling blow this day, my friend, and I shall see that your efforts are recognized. We have no need of you here at this time.”

They’re ganging up on him. Pike narrows his eyes, only to squeak as Valliant grabs his shirt and pulls him effortlessly to a chocobo. “Get thee to a chirurgeon, fool.”

A bit of healing magic on three broken ribs later, and Pike gets cleared to head back to Ishgard, though he’s supposed to “not aggravate injuries” or something of the like. Artoirel declares them finished and they head back to the city. The subtle ache of his ribs distracts Pike from the joy of flying somewhat, though once they land he gives the chocobo a nice pat and a treat.

He endures the lecture on “resting up and not being a stupid foolish idiot” from Valliant on the walk back to the manor. Pike looks up at one point during her rant to see Artoirel watching the two of them with an amused look. Valliant pulls his attention back before he can comment on it, however.

Fortunately for him, Valliant gets called away on business right as they reach the manor. Pike would wonder what that business is, but he’s just grateful to be free of the lecture. Despite his insistence that he’s fine, he is actually tired and he barely makes it to the sitting room before he needs to sit down. Pike’s debating the rudeness of passing out on this couch versus the actual effort it would take to get to his bedroom when Artoirel enters the sitting room.

Artoirel actually looks nervous, which makes Pike sit up, frowning at the ache in his ribs. “Did you need something?” Pike asks, trying to keep his tone neutral. He’s unsure of where he stands with Artoirel at the moment. He was sure Artoirel hated him when they left for the Highlands, but his relief at seeing Pike at the farmhouse was genuine.

Artoirel twists his hands together. “I have come to...apologize. For my actions, and my behavior the past few days.”

Pike sits up a bit straighter. “Oh?”

Artoirel sighs, looking Pike directly in the eyes. “From the first, I questioned your motives and your competence—unjustly, I now realize. Rumors have a way of growing more fantastic as they spread, and quite frankly, those surrounding you beggar belief.” 

Pike nods at that, and Artoirel continues. “Your relationship with Haurchefant, that too I questioned. We do not speak much, but in the few interactions I have had with him, he had mentioned you often, but never the extent. Until he announced his intent to propose to you. I thought you...no better than a social climber, using him for his position.”

Pike snorts, and Artoirel looks at him with confusion. “Sorry, just...if you knew anything about me, you’d know I want nothing to do with that. I’m putting up with all this nobility bullshit because he’s worth it to me. No offence.”

“I understand.” Artoirel smiles lightly. “It is not a life for everyone, and knowing you now, I can imagine your reluctance for it.” He sighs a bit, and crosses over to the window in the sitting room, looking out over the snowy cobblestone outside. “Where was I...ah. The rumors surrounding you. Haurchefant swore that all the stories were true. He championed your cause and begged Father to grant you patronage…” 

Artoirel turns to face Pike again before continuing. “And he duly listened, because for all his wisdom, he has never been able to say no to my dear half-brother—the legacy of my father's sole indiscretion. Mother hated him, of course. Even on her deathbed, she refused to acknowledge him. And...to be honest, she was not alone in her feelings.”

Pike files that information away for later, trying not to hold it against Artoirel, who looks chagrined enough at the admission. “I see,” he says instead.

Artoirel nods. “I believe...all these factors, they impacted my decision...At Camp Riversmeet, when we came upon the wounded knight, I knew immediately that one of us would have to pursue the heretics alone. An onerous task, fraught with danger... And there you were—the savior of Eorzea and honored guest of House Fortemps. My new comrade-in-arms. Haurchefant's fiance. And you volunteered, before I even had to ask.”

Pike sighs. “Plausible deniability.”

“Yes. I told myself it was to be a test, but part of me...part of me hoped that you would fail.” Artoirel looks away again. “Yet you accepted the task without any sign of fear. And you duly tracked the enemy down, faced him alone, and lived to tell the tale. Plainly, Haurchefant had the right of it all along. That I doubted your strength bespeaks mine own weakness.”

“We are all victim to our feelings, Artoirel.” Pike smiles. “And to be honest, I would have doubted myself had I heard the stories about me.”

“True though that may be, I will doubt you no longer, Pike.” Artoirel smiles. “I shall be glad to count you among the members of my house.”

Pike can feel warmth in his heart from that statement. “Thank you, Artoirel. I’m glad to join it.”

They’re interrupted then by someone bursting into the room. Haurchefant’s worried expression immediately sends guilt surging through Pike again. Then, pain replaces the guilt as Haurchefant crushes him into an embrace, and he squeaks.

Haurchefant immediately releases him. “I’m sorry, my love. Are you alright?”

“Fine, Haurchefant. Just a bit banged up, s’all.” Pike leans his forehead against Haurchefant’s shoulder.

“Every single time, Pike!” Haurchefant levels a glare at Pike, who cringes a bit. “I would think, with Valliant with you, that you would be prevented from running headlong into danger, but apparently not.”

“Sorry,” Pike mumbles. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

A sigh, and Haurchefant places a hand on Pike’s face. “Yes, as you’ve said.”

Artoirel clears his throat, and they both look up, Haurchefant’s ears reddening a bit at the tips. Pike’s too tired to care.

“Haurchefant, it’s my fault, I-”

“Couldn’t stop me running off,” Pike cuts him off. “Though he tried his best, and anyway the injured knight was more pressing at the time.”

Haurchefant just sighs again. “I appreciate you trying, Artoirel.”

“I…” Artoriel sighs. “Of course.”

Pike yawns, distracting Haurchefant. “My heart,” he says to Haurchefant. “I’m tired. Can you be angry with me later?”

Haurchefant softens, and he nods. “Of course, my love.”

Pike tries to lift himself off the couch, but the exhaustion from the healing magic leaves him boneless. “Guess I’m stuck here,” he sighs, then squeaks as Haurchefant lifts him in his arms.

“Then I shall carry you!” Haurchefant smiles, though his cheeks are a bit red. Artoirel chuckles a bit at them, and Pike buries his face into Haurchefant’s chest with embarrassment. He can’t bring himself to insist to be put down, however, and lets Haurchefant carry him to his bedroom.

* * *

After a week of recuperation and dodging his wedding planner, Pike is sent with Emmanellan and Valliant to Camp Cloudtop. Pike finds himself marvelling at the floating islands that dot the sky around them. Even after all this time in Eorzea, it still finds ways to stun him with its beauty.

Emmanellain leads them to the garrison leader, Lady Laniaitte, and Pike gets treated to watching him strike out immediately with his flirtations. In their brief interactions, Emannellain had seemed...spoiled, to put it kindly. It grates on Pike’s nerves to listen to him most of the time, though he tried his best not to show it.

Laniaitte’s greeting to Pike is warm, and when she introduces herself as Francel’s sister he understands. It’s somewhat nice, to be reminded of the first time he met Haurchefant, though he thinks he’ll leave the drama of that time in the past. They talk frankly about the problems facing Cloudtop, most of which revolve around beastmen and a general sense of boredom amongst the troops.

Emmanellain’s interjections clearly start to wear on Laniaitte, and she gives Pike the task of relaying his “orders” to him. Pike rolls his eyes, but he manages to diplomatically distract Emmanellain with lookout duty and Honoroit, his manservant (which, really, said everything he needed to know about Emmanellain) promises to keep him on task. 

Valliant reads the irritation in the set of his shoulders when he finishes. “He getting to you?”

“A bit,” Pike answers. He turns to Laniaitte. “Got anything I can hit?”

With a laugh, Laniaitte informs him that she does, and directs him to one of her commanders who mainly deals with the Vanu Vanu, the local beastmen.

They speak with Marielle, the aforementioned commander, and set out on a patrol in hopes of encountering some of the Vanu. As the patrol wears on, Pike begins to understand the fatigue and boredom that knights experience out here. Maybe it’s quicker for him, leading a life that bounces from one life-threatening fight to the next. 

Valliant’s greatsword cleaves through the last of the Vanu they’ve encountered, and Pike just feels tired of it all. Tired of seeing bodies filled with his arrows, tired of bloodshed and fighting. He feels trapped all of a sudden, gasping for air in a box that just keeps getting smaller and smaller until he’s crushed beneath the weight.

They head back to the main camp after that, having seen all they needed to. Valliant tries to psych him up a bit, but it fails to land, and he ends up wandering off on his own for a bit just to decompress.

He wanders down to the lower part of the Rosehouse to stare off into the mass of clouds. They pick up the afternoon light and glitter with sunbeams in the distance. It’s peaceful and beautiful in equal measure. 

Pike’s reverie is broken by a loud snore from his left. He looks over, and Emmanellain is dozing off, draped over the lower part of the railing. Pike trades a look with Honoroit, then sighs. 

He whistles lowly, startling Emmanellain from his nap. “Pike?” He asks sleepily, blinking slowly.

“Fine watch you make, eyes closed like that. Must be an advanced tactic I’ve never seen.” 

Emmanellain has the decency to turn a bit red. He looks away from Pike. “Can you blame me? It’s quite peaceful here, and not much going on besides.”

Pike shrugs and casts his gaze back out into the clouds. “Won’t make much of an impression on Lady Laniaitte, is all.”

That lights a fire under Emmanellain, and he stands up quickly. “No! In fact, my watch duty won’t make any impression at all! I need to take on a more dangerous task, one that will impress her beyond belief!”

Pike blinks as Emmanellain rushes off, and he and Honoroit look at each other. Honoroit shrugs, then runs off to find his wayward lord. Pike sighs and follows after the both of them.

He catches up to them talking to Laniaitte, who looks even more irritated. She makes eye contact with Pike, like she knows this is his fault, and then assigns them both a task. Pike feels a headache coming on as he agrees to watch the young lord as he hunts for pretty crystals in a pond. 

It turns out to be a bit more than pretty crystals in a pond.

Pike never should have agreed to the stupid competiton in the first place, but Emmanellain had already run off by the time he could even speak and besides, a moment of solitude seemed too good an offer to pass up.

The solitude, combined with the pleasant rush of the water and menial work had relaxed him somewhat, so much so that he didn’t even mind having to go off in search of Emmanellain. _ He’s probably fallen into a ditch somewhere, _ Pike thinks. Nothing to worry about.

And then Honoroit comes running up to him, screaming that Emmanellain has gotten himself _ kidnapped _, which is really just Pike’s luck, isn’t it?

He takes a deep breath. “Honoroit, go to Camp Cloudtop. Get help, tell Valliant to come as fast as she can. I’ll go after Emmanellain.”

Honoroit looks panicked. “But there’ll be so many of them! What if you get hurt?”

Pike grits his teeth. “I’ll be fine. Just go.” Honoroit runs off at that, and Pike takes another deep breath.

Like a cloak, the persona of the Cat’s Eye falls back over him. He finds the Vanu Vanu camp easily, and a few arrows take down the guards around the entrance. He pulls their bodies into the shadows and moves on.

It’s not hard to find where Emmanellain is. The Vanu are gathered in a communal area, Emmanellain tied up in the center. Pike’s not sure what they plan to do with him, but he doesn’t really care.

From the darkness, arrows spear the strongest looking Vanu Vanu, cutting through jugulars in a spray of blood. The chieftain spins around, rapidly, looking to the shadow the arrows came from, but he spots nothing. 

Pike makes a brief mistake and a small glint of firelight catches him. Emmanellain’s eyes widen and fool that he is, he shouts out for Pike. Pike swears heavily, and the Vanu converge on his position. He takes a few out with some well placed arrows, but they start to get closer and closer. Pike stows the bow, braces, and then using the closest Vanu as a launching pad, flips over the majority of the group. He ducks through the rest and reaches Emmanellain.

A flash of silver, and the ropes fall from Emmanellain’s wrists. Pike shoots another arrow at an approaching Vanu.

“Get the hell up, Emmanellain. We need to go.”

Emmanellain is on his feet in a second. Fear triumphs over all else in his eyes, and Pike’s not sure if it’s directed at their situation or Pike. Maybe both.

He’s beyond caring at this point.

A flurry of arrows clear a path for them, and Emmanellain goes stumbling through. Pike watches his back and his front and everything else in between, but it’s not enough, can’t be enough, not when Emmanellain’s less useful than a newborn kitten. 

He moves before the flash of steel even registers in his mind, and Emmanellain’s thrown to the ground as the tip of the spear pierces Pike’s armor and into his side. He doesn’t scream, simply grits his teeth and yanks the spear away from the attacker, the small knife he keeps on his side buried in the Vanu’s jugular. 

Emmanellain shrieks, and another group of Vanu are coming from behind them, spears and arrows at the ready. Pike considers the spear in his side, then pulls it free from the wound and tears a strip from his torn undershirt, shoving it into the wound. It’s a stopgap at best, he can feel the blood still seeping around the cloth, but it makes him feel better.

He claws for strength, and from within the Mage’s Ballad arises, the foreign words dripping across his tongue in a magical harmony. He looses one arrow to the sky, watches as it splits into two, then four, then eight and on and on until over a hundred arrows spill out in a song of death, four of the approaching Vanu falling immediately to the onslaught.

It buys him time. The gods will have to see if it’s enough. Pike scans for an exit in the few moments he has, Emmanellain rising to his feet behind him. The song has invigorated him as well, banished the fear from his eyes, but he’s still a far cry an active combatant. 

He hears approaching footsteps, turns with arrow nocked and ready to fire, but it’s too late, and the Vanu raises a knife to slash down on him. He braces, ready to catch the knife on his arm, he can take one more hit probably-

A body slams into him, knocking him to the ground. Dazedly, Pike watches a shield block the knife, the resulting clang sending the attacking Vanu Vanu careening into the darkness.

Haurchefant’s hand stretches down to pick Pike up and he nearly cries with relief. He pulls himself heavily to his feet with Haurchefant’s help. Pike resists the urge to tackle Haurchefant into an embrace, given the situation.

“Take Emmanellain and go!” Haurchefant shouts. “We’ll hold them here!” Two more knights come to flank him, giving them a clear path to run.

He spots the white shock of Valliant’s hair as she cleaves through a Vanu and together they run, out of the encampment and into the open air. “Pike L’oatel!” she shouts as they run. “You are in so much trouble right now!”

“Let the lecture lie for the moment, Vall!” Pike shouts back. Speed, they need speed, and he can feel his own energy flagging. Pike whistles a short tune, lighting his body with a bright green light and setting their legs moving into overdrive. A knight greets them at the edge of the Vanu territory, pulling his sword from the corpse of a rogue Vanu. Haurchefant and his knights are close at hand, and they stop for a moment to catch their breath.

Pike groans loudly as more chase them down the path. His strength wanes as he raises his bow, and the arrow flies off into the distance, far from any of the attackers coming their way. He stumbles into Valliant, who grabs him to hold him steady. 

“Pike?!” The worry in her voice is evident, and she spots the blood dripping down his side. “Haurchefant, we need to _ go. _”

The Vanu reach them, and Pike tries to pay attention as the chieftain speaks, but the edges of his vision are going dark, and it takes all his strength to keep himself conscious, let alone upright. He can make out the tension in Haurchefant’s shoulders, the nervous glancing for an exit. 

A roar sounds from underneath them and the ground shakes as a giant white whale bursts from the clouds, turning over them in a graceful arc. The Vanu chieftain shouts in elation, speaking again. Pike’s focus is entirely on clinging to Valliant, but the word “Bismarck” filters to his ears.

“A flying whale!? By the Fury, i-it's a primal!” Haurchefant says. He looks to the two primal slayers, sees their condition, then speaks. “We must away!”

Valliant half carries Pike as they run again, and it’s a testament to her inhuman strength that they keep up with the rest of the group. But they’re surrounded on all sides by Vanu Vanu now, who keep coming out of the woodwork like a swarm of wasps. They find themselves backed at the edge of the floating island, with nothing but the endless expanse of clouds beneath them.

Pike’s vision continues to fade, but he perks up slightly at the sound of an airship. “Cid?” He says, drawing the attention of their entire group. Sure enough, the _ Enterprise _ glides in, and Valliant gives up and fully picks Pike up as they make a hasty retreat onto the deck of the airship. Pike is settled into one of the seats by Valliant as she searches for bandages.

Pike looks around wildly but doesn’t spot Haurchefant, until he jumps onto the deck just as Cid pulls away from the island, leaving the furious Vanu Vanu in their wake. He shakes of the shock of his landing for a moment, and then his eyes meet Pike’s. As Haurchefant takes a step towards Pike, his vision finally clouds over with darkness.

* * *

Haurchefant needs to make a decision.

Right here, right now, he needs to decide if it’s worth it. If Pike is worth the stress and the worrying over his constant injuries, the brink of death he seems to live on.

He’s asked, had promises made, and had promises broken too many times to count now. Pike will never be safe, not when there’s lives to save and wars to be fought. This is the reality of his position, the title he’s earned.

Is Haurchefant prepared to live his life at the bedside? To wonder, every moment, whether his husband was out there, about to die?

He looks down at Pike’s peaceful, sleeping face lying in the hospital bed. The decision is easy, for how large it is.

Haurchefant tightens the cords on the bracelet around his wrist.

* * *

Unfortunately for Pike, blood loss and severe injury are a great time for Alphinaud and Tataru to go ahead and get accused of heresy.

Normally, Pike would be content to let Valliant take point on this one, but she’s off on her mysterious business again. Haurchefant is a strong fighter, but strong enough to take on two of the Heaven’s Ward? Pike wouldn’t let him anyway.

They buy him two days of recovery with careful political maneuvering and a few favors called in by Count Edmont. The Echo grants him some manner of faster healing, and the wound is mostly closed but still tender by the time Pike straps on his newly repaired armor.

He fiddles with the straps on his gauntlets, tightening and loosening in anxious pattern in the outside room of the Tribunal. Haurchefant is there, and he claps his hands over Pike’s, rubbing his knuckles faintly. “You can do this, my love.”

Pike nods, even as images of Tataru and Alphinaud lying broken at the bottom of Witchdrop flash through his mind. He and Haurchefant embrace, briefly, and Haurchefant departs.

He can faintly hear the trial progressing, and after a few moments the knight by the door signals to him, opening the door. He takes a deep breath, then for the second time that week, the Cat’s Eye persona falls over him. As he walks in, he looks Ser Grinnaux in the eyes, smiling a faint smile of promise. Promise of pain and death. He relishes the faint fear he can spot in the knight’s eyes.

Pike claps a hand on Alphinaud’s shoulder as he walks in. He’s not sure if Alphinaud knows about his injury yet, having been kept in some dark cell in Ishgard. He tries not to show it anyway.

They enter the arena and the judge says some fancy words, but Pike isn’t paying attention. He’s thinking of how to keep himself and Alphinaud safe, planning attacks and ways out if necessary. The two knights whisper to each other, no doubt planning their own attack. Pike looks to Alphinaud. “Keep back as much as possible, okay? We’re both long range fighters so we’re at a bit of a disadvantage, but we can do this.”

Alphinaud nods, though is face is a bit pale. Pike smiles gently down at him, and ruffles his hair a bit. “And worst case scenario, I’ll burn down the whole building and we’ll escape in the chaos.”

Alphinaud laughs a little, a bit of tension bleeding out of his face. “That would run counter to my attempts at peaceful negotiation, Pike.”

Pike grins, and turns to face their opponents once more. His eyes lose the softness he directed at Alphinaud, growing cold and calculating, hunting for weaknesses in their opponents. Grinnaux favors his left leg, likely an old injury there, and the lancer, Paulecrain, he holds the spear across his body. Afraid to get hit.

Pike grins at the two knights, a challenge. Paulecrain answers, but before he can cross the room to Pike he’s already shot two arrows at Grinnaux’s knee, right in the gap in his armor. He cries out with anger and pain, and the wind and poison aether weave through his body. “I’ll leave you the rest, Alphinaud!” Pike calls, dodging the lance swipe Paulecrain aims at him.

Paulecrain is tenacious, and he puts up a good fight against Pike. Pike throws himself around the room, the Echo pinging like crazy as he dodges thrust after thrust, trading arrow shots in between. He takes the butt of the shaft in his side once or twice, but he doesn’t take any serious hits. 

Alphinaud cries out as a aetheric chain wraps around him, and Pike takes a second between dodging swipes to aim and fire an arrow right into the weak spot in the links. Paulecrain reaches him once again, and he and Grinnaux nod.

Their attack is flashy but ultimately easy to dodge, their swings wide and obvious even without the Echo. It leaves them with a clear opening, counting on the force of their attack to keep any enemies away. Pike takes advantage.

With a swift kick to the stomach, Paulecrain doubles over, and Pike smashes his face into his own spear, knocking him out cold. Alphinaud gives him an opening on Grinnaux, and with another two arrows to his knee, he goes down to where Pike can aim the arrow at his face without worry of him being able to get up again.

“Yield.” Pike says, pulling back on the string. The knight bares his teeth and attempts to get up, and Pike kicks him in the knee again. With a cry, he falls. “Yield, Ser, or lose your life.” His voice is cold and unforgiving, and devoid of empty promise.

Grinnaux, between heavy breaths, says, “I yield.”

Pike pulls back on the string for a moment, just to watch Grinnaux flinch. Then he lowers the bow, checking on Alphinaud. “You alright?”

Alphinaud’s eyes are wide as he looks between Pike and Grinnaux. “I...am quite alright, Pike.”

They’re excused with a few more words from the judge, and Pike lets out a heavy breath the moment he’s alone, holding his side. One of the lance blows had caught him right in the wound, and with the rush of battle over, the pain flows in.

After a bit of breathing, the pain subsides enough for Pike to meet Haurchefant in the atrium of the Tribunal. Haurchefant smiles at him, and greets him with a gentle kiss.

“By the Fury, what a splendid victory!” His cheer is overwhelming to Pike, but welcome. “It is always a pleasure to watch you fight, my love. And Alphinaud held his fair share as well!”

Pike smiles. “He did, didn’t he? He’s really grown since we’ve come to Ishgard.”

Haurchefant nods, and then starts. “I nearly forgot!” He pulls a small object from his pocket and hands it to Pike. “It is traditional, in the course of a betrothal, to give gifts to one another. And Artoirel happened to mention your enchantment with the chocobos in the stables…”

A soft _ kweh _ sounds from the entrance of the atrium, and a tall black chocobo strides in. It nuzzles Haurchefant’s cheek as it approaches, and Pike is filled with love and joy as he looks down at the black whistle in his hands.

He strokes the chocobo’s feathers softly, looking up at Haurchefant. “I love you more than anything,” Pike says. “Let’s get married.”

Haurchefant looks surprised at Pike. “I thought we were already betrothed?”

Pike laughs. “No, I meant, let’s go get married. Today. Or tomorrow, if you need a bit of time.”

Haurchefant is still for a moment, before sweeping Pike up into a tight embrace.

* * *

They end up waiting three days, for Valliant to return. Neither one of them breathes a word to anyone outside of Alphinaud and Tataru, because the impropriety of eloping would perhaps be a bit much for even Edmont to approve of.

Pike calls one of his comrades in the Maelstrom on his linkpearl, arranging for a captain to marry the two of them in Limsa Lominsa. He invites Tataru, Valliant and Alphinaud, and Haurchefant invites Francel, keeping the party small and intimate.

It’s a bright, sunny day in Limsa as they board the boat. Pike takes one of the storerooms over to get ready, placing the beaded breastplate over his white bunad. Valliant helps him with his complicated braids, placing his commissioned charms into the twists. He has two; one with Menphina and Oschon embracing, a traditional one for his people, and one of Halone holding gerberas. 

He stares at himself in the mirror balanced precariously on a few crates in the room. Valliant ties off the last braid and pins it up, before resting her hands on his shoulders. “I’m happy for you, kid.”

Pike smiles. “Thanks, Vall. I’m happy too.”

“You look it. I’m surprised you two didn’t tie the knot sooner.”

“You and everyone else, it would seem.” Pike adjusts one of the straps on his breastplate and ties it off. He runs nervous fingers over the fine embroidery on his shirt sleeves, and Valliant gently pulls them away.

“Pike, relax,” she says, and he does a bit. “All you need to do is go out there, tell Haurchefant you love him, and get married by a really old pirate.”

Pike laughs a bit, and he straightens his breastplate with a nod. “Right. Okay, I’m ready.”

“Yeah, you are. Go get your man.”

Years from now, Pike won’t remember stumbling on his way out, or the way the old pirate makes a dirty joke about their wedding night. He won’t remember Tataru’s crying, or Valliant’s misty eyes. 

But he’ll remember the vows, the way Haurchefant lights up when he walks to the altar, and the joy of finally marrying the love of his life.

He remembers the happy times, and they carry him through the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK
> 
> This chapter is not my favorite. I had a hard time writing it in places, and I think it shows. But I just needed to power through, I think, and I got it done! Sorry it took so long.
> 
> Two more chapters and it's over, folks. I won't make any promises when they'll come but they will eventually.


	7. Let Me Dream of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Darling, darling, darling, let me dream of you_   
_Let me dream of you_   
_Where I die in, die in, die in your arms_   
_Die in, die in, die in your arms_

_ Dear Haurchefant, _

_ You’ll be pleased to hear we found Raubahn. He was in bad shape, but we got him out. As I write to you, he’s recuperating in the Waking Sands. It was heartwarming to see him reunite with Pippin, but it made me long for my missing friends all the same, just as I missed them at our wedding. I have hope that I’ll be able to share the news with them soon. Thancred in particular will be happy to hear it, he was one of your most ardent supporters in my troubles towards the beginning of our relationship. _

_ I miss you dearly, and I hope my business in Thanalan is over soon. Though Alphinaud is eager to work himself to death, I find myself looking forward to taking some time for our honeymoon. It will be a delight to show you Costa Del Sol and be away from fighting for a time. _

_ How fare you in the winter, my heart? I’m beginning to miss the cold, for once, here in the desert. The sun sears like nothing else, and at least in the cold I can bundle up with you and a mug of hot chocolate. Valliant’s been teasing me for sweating every day. _

_ My free time runs short, and Alphinaud’s been fake coughing for nearly ten minutes now. I’ll end the letter here to save his throat. Stay warm, and give Edmont my love. _

_ Yours always, _

_ Pike _

_ My love, _

_ I hope my letter finds you and your friends well! I am happy to hear that General Raubahn is safe and well in your care. Alphinaud mentioned to me something about the Sultana of Ul’dah possibly still being alive, and selfishly, I hope for your sake that she is. _

_ The winter in Coerthas bites as always, and day to day I find myself dreaming of the beaches you’ve described in Costa Del Sol. I confess to burning easily in bright sunlight, so perhaps I may not enjoy it as much as I enjoy my daydreams! At any rate, time spent with you will be time easily enjoyed. _

_ Father congratulated me on our nuptials when I returned, though the displeasure on his face was quite evident. Emmanellain was quite put out (he does love a good party), and even Artoirel confessed to being sad to miss such a happy occasion. Even so, I cannot find it within myself to regret our wedding even one ilm. Father was pleased to hear from you, by the by, and he wishes you a speedy finish to your work. I think he misses you nearly as much as me! _

_ There is much and more to prepare before we depart for Costa Del Sol, so I must end this letter. I miss your voice, my love, and your presence at night. Stay safe and return to me whole. _

_ Your husband, _

_ Haurchefant _

  


_ My husband, _

_ I’m writing this note under the cover of night. Alphinaud and the others don’t know that I’ve kept you apprised of our plans, partly to keep you and yours free from the burden of guilt, and partly because I think they think you would try to stop us. Perhaps you would. _

_ We’re seeking out Iceheart. Alphinaud thinks there’s a chance we can settle things with the dragons peacefully, and my heart, I am so tired of fighting. I don’t think I can bear to watch anyone else fall to my arrows. Every death weighs so heavily on my mind. _

_ The heretics, they’re people, too. Can I truly say every one I’ve slain was in self defense? Were they not scared as well? These questions haunt me, Haurchefant, and I find the answers fleeting. _

_ Iceheart may attempt to kill us once more. Her summoning of Shiva is...terrifying, to say the least, and if she had enough crystals I don’t know if Valliant and I would be enough to take her. But as a hero, as the Warrior of Light, my duty should not be just to kill villains. It should be to save as many as I can. _

_ Minfilia’s words echo with me, even now: For those we have lost. For those we can yet save. I hope I’m not too late to save everyone. Burn this after reading it, because if things go wrong, I will not have you follow me so quickly into the afterlife. _

_ I love you. _

_ Pike _

  


_ Pike, _

_ I miss you. I’ve written what feels like a thousand letters, and not one response. Perhaps you are too busy to write me, perhaps too frequently on the move for the Post Moogles to find you. Perhaps… _

_ No, it need not be written. _

_ Ser Aymeric holds off the war as long as he can, on your words, but the people are growing impatient and fearful. I fear it will not last much longer. _

_ Ever since I read your note, my heart has been heavy. I have always longed to share your burdens, even as you keep them locked in your heart. Why did you not tell me about the tiredness earlier? Were you afraid of what would happen when you said it? Were you afraid that even if you said it, Eorzea would not let you go? _

_ My love, I would have taken on the whole world to see you happy. Duty be damned, I say. They have taken enough from you. _

_ And yet you carry on, even now trying to save as many as you can. Minfilia’s words are quite wise for a hero. Less so for a man. But I know your heart, just as I knew it that day in my camp, when you threw yourself in harm’s way to save a man you barely knew, whose people had treated you poorly from day one. I knew it when I looked at you, lying in your sickbed having saved my foolish young brother. I knew it when I married you. You are a true hero, through and through, and you will not stand back and let others be harmed to save yourself. _

_ Every day I love you more and more. I miss you. Come home soon. _

_ Your heart, _

_ Haurchefant _

* * *

Pike is a mystery to Ysayle.

The Echo painted a picture of a ruthless killer, an assassin just looking for his next spot of gil. She remembers the way his eyes looked staring down a young freedom fighter, the _ indifference _ , like taking a life was no more a problem than filing paperwork to him. A stray thought, _ I need to visit Elphina next week _ the only thing on his mind. 

It was hard to reconcile that with the man that had supposedly saved Eorzea. She considered reason after reason, the payment, the fame, perhaps his Garlean masters had angered him and he was looking for a little revenge. None satisfied her.

She had caught another glimpse the night they faced each other in the basement of the farmhouse, of the noble man he called his fiance. It was another ploy, she thought, having decided by that time he was on the run from Garlemald. The noble houses were corrupt and powerful, an attractive image to a criminal needing refuge.

And then he had come, with a teenager and the Azure Dragoon in tow, to ask for her help in brokering _ peace _. It was a trick, nothing more, Ysayle thought. She’d turn her back on them and the assassin would put a knife in it. 

But the teenager, Alphinaud, he had been so sincere in his desire for peace, and the Azure Dragoon was not one for trickery and deceit. He didn’t care much for the fighting of heretics, only for the slaying of dragons. They were ill choices for an assassination. So she kept her guard up, but led them into the Dravanian Forelands.

Ysayle watched Pike fight, the same ferocity he had shown when they faced, god to man. He was every bit the demon her visions had shown, she thought. Then Alphinaud had stepped in the way of an attack from one of the Gnath, and before anyone could say anything Pike had knocked him out of the way to take the hit for him. A glancing blow, nothing serious, but it had shook free another memory from his past.

Memories, in fact. She saw him take blow after blow, protecting innocents and comrades alike from certain harm. He wasn’t strong and built like his friend Valliant, didn’t carry a shield to absorb blows from his enemies. There was no reason for him, practically, to be taking these hits. 

She puzzles over these moments as they make camp for the night. A large tree provided shelter for the fire they built, and Valliant makes them a hearty stew with the supplies they had bought in Tailfeather. She sits separate from their little group, watches Pike tease Alphinaud, bicker with Estinien, and bother Valliant until she hits him away with her spoon.

The dichotomy of this man absorbs her, and she’s startled when Pike appears before her, holding a bowl out to her. “Here,” he says, handing it to her. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“I…” She’s unsure, still nervous around him. “I suppose not.” He nods at that, settling onto the grass and leaning against the tree. An awkward silence grows around them, and Ysayle shoves a mouthful of stew into her mouth to distract herself from it. It’s more delicious than it has any right to be, being made in the middle of the woods.

Pike stirs his spoon through his own bowl, expression unreadable. Ever a mystery. After a few moments, her bowl nearly half finished, he speaks. “How many people have you seen me kill?”

She nearly chokes on the bite of stew she had just taken. After swallowing heavily, she looks Pike in the eye. She can read the expression now, cagey and uncomfortable. Ysayle takes a moment before she speaks. “Just...just a few. Enough for context.”

Pike lets out a relieved breath. “Good. The memories are hard enough to deal with for me. I would hate to have any more people hurt by them.”

That absolutely reels her, and she blinks dumbly at him. “I thought…”

“You thought me an unrepentant assassin?” Pike says, a sad smile on his face. “I tried to be. Tried to forget the names and faces of every person I killed, the hurt I caused. Never worked, I can still list them all in order.”

His tone is casual, but Ysayle can see the guilt in his eyes. She knows there’s a piece missing, between the indifferent killer and the haunted young man before her. “Then...why? Why do any of it?”

Pike looks at her, reading her face for a moment. “Would you do anything to protect that which you hold dear?”

“Yes?” It’s an odd question. He’s seen the lengths she’s gone to. 

“Even compromise your own morals? Become a person you’re not proud of being, all in the name of what you believe to be your greatest good?”

She doesn’t know how to answer that, and it seems Pike can tell. He nods grimly. 

“There may come a time where you have to make that decision. Don’t do it. You’ll think trading yourself for good is worth it, but you aren’t just trading your own morality.” He looks off into the distance. “Far worse than what I did is who I did it for. Dozens of people died in my sister’s name. She was young and innocent, and I traded their lives to keep that. She would never have wanted that.”

He stands then, leaving his still full bowl of stew discarded. “Get some rest, Ysayle, and pray that you don’t make villains of those you love.”

Pike leaves her. She does not sleep that night.

* * *

There’s not enough time when they return for Pike to see Haurchefant, to tell him face to face that he’s alive. There’s business in Ul’dah, and a dragon to kill. He can’t take the time to be selfish and delay everything, put Ishgard at risk just to see his husband for a moment.

Every second matters, Pike tells himself. He see Haurchefant from afar just as they take off in the manacutters. It’s been a month since he’s seen him beyond the letters that sit heavy in his hip bag, and he wants nothing more to run to his husband and reassure him everything will be alright.

He leaves Ishgard instead. The truth is, for Pike, it’s more selfish to not see him. Because he’s scared of Nidhogg. Pike’s faced false gods, Ascians, even Midgardsomr without a shred of fear in his heart. But he had Hydaelyn on his side, then, the Blessing of Light to bolster him.

Estinien has the Eye, but that hasn’t been enough before, so why would it be now? 

There’s no other option, he knows that, and he has to believe that they’ll be enough. He just doesn’t believe it strong enough to tell that to Haurchefant’s face.

He leaves a note with Edmont instead.

_ Dear Haurchefant, _

_ Before all else, I love you. You have given my life purpose in the year we’ve been together, in the ways you’ve uplifted me and changed me. You are good and kind and strong, and I am lucky that you are all that for me as well. _

_ We go to fight Nidhogg today. Peace was never an option, not with the bloodshed and betrayal. With any luck, I will return to tell you all about it in my own words. _

_ Forgive me for my cowardice. I could not bear to face you and lie, nor to tell you that I was unsure if I would return. It is weak and selfish of me, I know, but if you are alive to be mad about it, it will be worth it to me. _

_ Please keep yourself safe, my heart. Hydaelyn willing, I will have the requisite strength to fell Nidhogg and return to you, and you had better be around to receive me if I do. _

_ I love you, my husband. _

_ Pike _

* * *

The Brume is burning when they return.

They did it, they killed Nidhogg, but_ the Brume is burning _.

Pike wants to lash out at Ysayle, even though he knows she has no part in this. She had always been on the side of peace, on the side of bridging the gap between dragon and Ishgardian. He can see the horror in her eyes as she takes in the burning city, however, and he lets her be.

He sees children running from a burning building, one of the Temple Knights guiding them. Pike aches to run off, aches like the burn on his shoulder from Nidhogg’s fire, but Valliant holds him back.

“We stop the heretics first, Pike,” she says, even as the pain is writ clear on her face. “We stop them, and this all stops.”

She’s right, he just doesn’t want to hear it. They push through the city turned battlefield, Ysayle stopping her people wherever she can find them and telling them to leave. Pike scans for Haurchefant, for Aymeric, for any one of their people and a confirmation they are safe. 

Pike sees his husband directing his forces across the main stretch of the Brume. He is relatively unharmed, though spots of soot and ash coat his armor. He lets out a sigh of relief, one that Haurchefant echoes as soon as he sees him.

There’s anger in Haurchefant’s eyes, mixed with the relief, and Pike feels a sting of guilt. Alphinaud explains Ysayle’s presence to him, and he nods with understanding before leading them to where the bulk of Ishgardian and heretic forces have met.

Ysayle pleads with her people, begs them to accept peace where they can have it, and for one brief, terrible moment, Pike doesn’t think it’ll work. But the heretics sheathe their swords, Haurchefant convinces the Temple Knights to stand down, and for once the day does not end in bloodshed.

Not much, anyway. They find and help whoever they can, treating the wounded and providing comfort to the dying. Pike finds the what wounded heretics he can, and helps them out of the city to meet Ysayle. His heart aches for the displaced and injured citizens of the Brume by the end of the night.

The rest of the group has congregated at the manor by the time he returns, caked in soot. Estinien had brought Aymeric and Lucia there, as well. Pike meets them in the drawing room, and he stands by Valliant’s side as they explain what they saw in the Churning Mists. 

He doesn’t try to stop Aymeric from leaving, even though he knows it could be dangerous for him. He knows the look in his eyes, has seen them in the mirror too many times to count. It’s the look he gets when he knows his course, even if it’s dangerous.

Besides, Lucia didn’t tackle him on the way out, so he’s clearly not in immediate danger of dying.

Lucia confirms his suspicions, and Aymeric probably being the son of the Archbishop is about the last thing Pike would have suspected. He remembers the feeling he got meeting the Archbishop after Alphinaud and Tataru were arrested. It reminded him of high ranking members of the Garlean military, men completely convinced they were doing the right thing, uncaring of who they would hurt along the way.

Aymeric was more like...Minfilia. Someone committed to helping the world in whatever way they could, to doing right by everyone, not just those in power. A dangerous mindset to have, because it led to things like going and confronting the Archbishop of an entire city-state on your own, but a noble one.

Pike had heard of nature versus nurture, but that was a wide difference.

“Bastard or trueborn, he is our nation's best hope.” Estinien says, and Pike’s inclined to agree. “If the Holy See dares to threaten him, I shall lead the charge against the Vault myself.”

“Hear, hear! The future of Ishgard rests on Ser Aymeric's shoulders! I too will do mine utmost to aid his cause!” Haurchefant says with cheer, and Pike tries to push down the stab of fear in his heart. _ They’re just people, Pike _ , he thinks to himself. _ Haurchefant can take them _.

Edmont seems to share his concerns. “Haurchefant, be reasonable…”

Pike looks at Haurchefant, and he knows there’s no dissuading him. His eyes shine with a fervor, like he’s ready to jump into battle that minute. A trait Pike both loves and fears.

“A knight lives to serve, Father─to aid those in need!” Haurchefant says, a bright smile on his face. “The people need Ser Aymeric─more than ever─and we may be his only hope! There is no greater calling for a knight than to save the life of his fellow man. I swear to you, on the sigil of our house, that I shall do this and make you proud.”

Pike feels a sense of dread overcome him at Haurchefant’s words.

* * *

He gets a few hours to rest before he needs to be back out, and Pike intends to make the most of them. He hasn’t stopped since they left for the Aery that morning, and the exhaustion threatens to swallow him.

He shucks his armor and dumps it into a pile in the corner of the room, to clean and deal with tomorrow. As he goes to pull his undershirt off, he pulls at the burn on his shoulder, and hisses with pain. He goes to the mirror to assess the damage.

“Pike.”

Haurchefant stands at the bedroom door, a jar in his hands. Burn ointment, from what Pike can smell. He meets Haurchefant’s eyes.

In the mess of battle and the aftermath, it had been easy to forget he hadn’t seen Haurchefant in over a month. Too many other things to focus on, letting what Pike had done slip to the back of his mind. A pang of guilt shoots through him and he looks away from Haurchefant’s eyes.

Haurchefant sighs and crosses the room, setting the jar on the dresser next to the table. He smears a bit of the cream on his fingers and gently presses them on Pike’s shoulder. Pike bites his lip to keep from whimpering.

“I’m sorry-” Pike starts, but Haurchefant cuts him off.

“I made my peace with you running off into danger, Pike.” Haurchefant shakes his head, meeting Pike’s eyes in the mirror. “But leaving me with just a letter was cruel.”

“I know.” Pike’s voice is quiet, just above a whisper. “I can say there was no time, but I could have made time to see you. I just...I hate promising you that I’ll stay safe when I know I won’t. I couldn’t promise I would come back safe from that, Haurchefant, and I...I’m a coward. I didn’t want to see you scared, I’m not sure what I would have done.”

Haurchefant sighs and rests his chin in Pike’s hair. “I made the choice to love you, to worry about you when I married you. I know the man I married, and he would have marched off anyway.”

“I’m sorry, my heart. You deserve better than that.”

“As long as you’re aware, and never do that to me again,” Haurchefant says, pulling back and continuing his ministrations. Pike knows he’s forgiven, mostly for coming back alive.

“I think I’m getting better,” Pike jokes. “Only a burn this time.”

Haurchefant smiles. “Mm, I do appreciate you not bleeding.”

“I make it look good.”

“You could make a popoto sack look good, my love.”

“That’s why I keep running off into danger, too much beauty and not enough brains.”

Haurchefant laughs at that, setting the burn cream down. He spins Pike around to face him. “Just the right amount of beauty for me, I believe,” he says, before capturing Pike in a kiss.

Pike doesn’t end up getting to rest for the full time he has, but he finds he doesn’t mind very much.

* * *

Fighting beside Haurchefant is easy.

He trusts Haurchefant more than he trusts Valliant, even if it’s by the smallest of margins. Pike doesn’t check to make sure, just knows Haurchefant will be there to cover him when he takes a risky shot. Pike’s always there to cover Haurchefant when he needs to take the attention of their foes.

Charibert puts up quite the fight against them, much to Pike’s surprise. He still well remembers Grinnaux and Paulecrain, who were a nuisance but not a _ problem. _ Lucia gives them an out, thankfully, and Pike’s glad for it, because he would like to conserve his energy for the main event, thank you.

They speak with Hilda, and she agrees to join them. Pike has liked her since she took aim and shot at Charibert without even a thought, honestly. That kind of moxie he can get behind. 

“I think if I weren’t so gay and married, I’d buy you a drink,” he says to Hilda after she’s joined them.

She laughs loudly, unashamedly at that. “And if I weren’t so gay as well, I think I’d let ya,” she says. Pike joins her in laughter.

They set the plan in motion. Hilda runs off to inform her people, to create a distraction for them. They separate into two parties, Haurchefant, Lucia, Estinien, and Alphinaud to breach the underground jail and Pike and Valliant to take on the Heaven’s Ward.

No pressure or anything.

They set out to breach the Vault. The Temple Knight lets them in, and for a moment, things are quiet.

Then footsteps, and they are beset on all sides by enemies. The Vault is well guarded, even aside from the Temple Knights. Pike and Valliant struggle, but prevail, and make their way to Ser Adelphel.

They’d been briefed as much as possible on the Heaven’s Ward. No one was sure who they would run into, who would defend the Archbishop. Pike had made plans for each, and in some ways it was a relief to have only Valliant at his side. He knew her like he knew himself; could take a shot knowing she would be there to follow it up.

The plan immediately goes to shit when Adelphel grows to twice his height and glows with some unknown power. He blasts them back into the wall, and Pike catches the grating with one hand.

“What the fuck!” Valliant shouts as she charges back in, greatsword in hand. She slashes down on Adelphel, who blocks it easily. She grits her teeth, then kicks out and jumps back.

Pike pulls out his harp. He doesn’t know what song he’s about to play, but the notes come to him like a vision. He plucks a short minuet, and he feels power surge through him. When he draws back the arrow, it glows with a blue light. The wounds he’d inflicted earlier glow as well, like they’re drawing the arrow in. It hits true, and the knight falls to his knee, shrinking.

With a burst of bright white light, he disappears, and Pike and Valliant share a glance.

“Shit.”

Pike agrees.

Grinnaux is much the same as the first time Pike fought him, but with a few new tricks. Oh, and twice the height. His axe cleaves the air, leaving black portals that Pike can’t even begin to think about where they lead. His attacks are just as wide, though, and the Echo doesn’t even need to warn him to dodge.

Valliant cleaves a long gash into Grinnaux, and he falls as well, disappearing in the same flash of light.

They finally fight their way to the roof. Pike follows where the guard is the thickest, guessing. The Heaven’s Ward are bodyguards, not tactical minds, and he thinks they hope to overwhelm them with the numbers.

He’s proven right when they reach Ser Charibert, who, like his comrades, has somehow grown twice his height. Pike isn’t sure where their newfound power is coming from.

Charibert is just as hard to fight as he was in the Brume, if not more so. Pike’s not shackled by the concerns of civilians, can let his blasts go wherever they damn well please as long as they aren’t on himself, so he has a bit more freedom here, and he needs every ilm.

Charibert’s clearly comfortable in the Vault. He calls on their automatons easily, knows the worst places to lock Pike in so he’s busier dealing with avoiding puddles of fire than shooting arrows into Charibert’s face. But he’s also not wearing much armor, so every hit he takes is more impactful than the same on Grinnaux or Adelphel, and this works to Pike’s advantage.

Charibert retreats to the center of the room, and Pike’s no expert on magic, but he’s clearly channelling a spell. Orbs of pure flame appear around the room, and he and Valliant trade a worried look. Two automatons appear, flanking and protecting Charibert.

Pike pulls out his harp once more. The Mage’s Ballad is familiar and easy, and he calls to it now with confident strumming and a high, clear voice. He can feel the aether grow in his chest, and he pulls back on his bow.

The arrows multiply in the air, whistling with wind as they rapidly gain speed. The wind disrupts the flames enough for them to flicker and disappear, and the automatons crumple into the dirt. Charibert catches an arrow to his arm, and his distraction disrupts his channeling of the spell.

The aborted spell goes off, sending searing heat across the battlefield, but it merely singes the ends of Pike’s fur. Valliant barely shies from the heat before charging back in, taking advantage of Charibert’s distraction to send her greatsword crashing down on him.

He takes the blow heavily, falling to the ground. “Our power...how can this be?” Charibert asks quietly, so quietly that Pike can barely catch it. 

Pike catches a glimpse of a glare as the same white light engulfs Charibert. The battlefield is empty save for the broken automatons, and the Warriors of Light panting heavily.

An airship passes over their heads, and Valliant and Pike share a look, before dashing off to the only place it could land.

* * *

Fighting beside Haurchefant is easy.

He trusts Haurchefant more than he trusts Valliant, even if it’s by the smallest of margins. So when he looks at Haurchefant, he knows the look means, “Go in. I will cover your back.” And he believes it.

Pike doesn’t think one more second before dashing in, drawing his bow as he goes. The element of surprise won’t last long, he knows. He goes as close as he dares before lining up the shot.

He trusts Haurchefant to cover him. It is not a wise decision.

The arrow points straight at the Archbishop’s head, and Pike knows it will be a killing blow once he lets it loose. He draws back on the bow, lets out a breath…

“Watch out!”

The arrow flies off center, missing its target entirely, because Pike is turning back to watch as Haurchefant catches a spear of pure energy on his shield. His eyes widen as he hears the shield crack.

“Haurchefant!” Pike cries. The spear breaks through the shield and drives home right into Haurchefant’s chest. Blood spills from his husband’s lips, and Pike’s heart breaks into a million pieces in one moment. Pike is frozen as Haurchefant falls to the ground, light mingling with blood from the wound.

He falls to his knees, and takes his husband’s hand in his own. Pike can hear the airship engine start, but he can’t think about that right now, his hands desperately pressing against Haurchefant’s wound, trying to keep him from losing any more blood.

His comrades run to him, Aymeric dropping behind due to his injuries, but Pike doesn’t notice that, because his husband is dying in front of him, and he’s starting to realize there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. His hands pat frantically at his hip pouches, searching desperately for a cure he knows is not there.

“C’mon, Haurchefant, stay with me,” Pike begs desperately. Haurchefant simply smiles at him.

“You...you are unharmed?” And Pike’s heart breaks further, because he’s fine, he’s perfectly fine, because his husband lies here bleeding on the ground. “F-Forgive me... I could not bear the thought of...of…”

“Haurchefant, please, no, please! Don’t leave me!” The tears have broken in his eyes, pouring down the sides of his cheeks.

“My love, do not look at me so…” Haurchefant’s voice is fading fast. “A smile better suits a hero…”

Smile? He can’t smile, his heart is lying here on the ground, bleeding, _ dying _ and he wants a smile?

Pike’s always been weak for him. 

He smiles, though the tears run down his face.

Pike’s known, he’s always known somehow it would end like this. Everyone he loves has fallen at this point, his parents, his sister, his friends. But he thought…

He had never thought he would be smiling during it.

He leans down close to Haurchefant, kisses his lips one last time. He feels the last breath leave his husband, his heart. Haurchefant slumps in Aymeric’s arms. And Pike’s smile wavers, falls, and the tears start in earnest. He lets out an anguishing cry, a primal howl.

* * *

He’s unsure how long he sits there, holding Haurchefant’s body to his chest, but finally Valliant shakes his shoulder. Her cheeks are wet like his. “Pike. Pike, please, he’s gone, we need to leave. There’s still enemies here.”

Pike barely hears her, but he nods. He stands, brushes the tears from his eyes, and looks at Valliant. Worry and grief mix in her face.

“I can’t-” Pike falters. “I don’t trust anyone else, and I _ can’t _.”

Some gift blesses Valliant, and she nods gently, then stoops to lift Haurchefant from the ground.

Numbly, Pike walks from the Vault. He does not notice if anyone bothers them on the way out, and he doesn’t care. He just walks.

The cold winter morning breaks as the exit, and Pike looks into the sunrise, beautiful and golden. The cold stings the tears on his face, and it brings him back to his body.

Valliant’s disappeared, and Pike’s glad for it. He can’t bear to look on his husband’s-on him at this moment. The knight from before flags him down, and the pity is clear on his face.

“I...I know not what to say.” The knight looks stricken. “The others, they...they are gathered at Fortemps Manor. For what it is worth, Master L’oatel...my condolences.”

Pike nods. He cannot bring himself to speak at that moment.

It’s a short walk from the Vault to the Fortemps manor. The steward lets him in, confusion writ on his face at Pike’s disheveled form. Pike ignores him and marches his way to the drawing room, pausing just before the door. He lifts a hand, gently touching the expensive wood and intricate carvings. It should be beautiful, he thinks idly. It is simply wood to him.

Pike turns the handle and enters the drawing room. Edmont has his back to him. Pike opens his mouth to speak, not sure if he can even bring words to bear.

“Don’t. Please.” Edmont’s voice shakes as it tries to hold steady. “A knight lives to serve. To protect. To sacrifice. There is no greater calling.”

Pike watches his hand tighten on the walking stick. A fresh wave of grief rolls over Pike then, and even if he wanted to speak, he couldn’t.

“Leave me to mourn, and give chase. For my son, and for the man he loved. Go.”

Alphinaud looks to Pike, but Pike keeps staring at Edmont’s back. If words exist to comfort his father-in-law, Pike does not know them. The irony strikes him: a bard without words? It seem preposterous.

“His sacrifice will not be forgotten,” Alphinaud says, and Edmont finally breaks. He falls to his knees.

“My son…” Pike hears him whisper.

Pike is a coward. He flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch me crying while writing this chapter, because I'm a baby. This has been the hardest chapter emotionally for me to write, but the easiest in actual writing. Most of these scenes were planned well in advance, especially Haurchefant's death. In fact, thinking about that scene is what lead me to write this entire story, because it was such a pivotal moment for me while playing (I threw my headset, I was so upset) and it seems right to reflect that with Pike.
> 
> One more chapter, I wonder what it could be about? :)


	8. Let Me Sing to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Darling, darling, darling,_  
_Let me sing to you, let me sing to you,_  
_Let me sing to you_  
  
An ending to the song, and the beginning of a new refrain.

The numbness cedes to anger quickly for Pike.

The glimpse of Zephirin in his vision of Aymeric stirs the flames of hatred in his heart quickly. The face of his husband’s killer is forever burned into Pike’s mind now. As he comes out of the foreign memory, Pike’s hand clenches into a fist.

He breathes out slowly, trying to quell the rushing emotion, but it overwhelms him, and he can barely concentrate on the conversation. Their words drift over him like whispers.

“Master Alphinaud, Lady Skye, Master L’oatel─I, Aymeric, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights of Ishgard, do hereby entreat the aid of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.” Aymeric looks all of them in the eye in turn, his gaze lingering on Pike just a fraction longer. 

“Our aid in preventing whatever it is that the archbishop intends?” Alphinaud asks.

“Your aid in bringing him to justice. Too much blood has been spilled for the lies he perpetuated. No more.” Aymeric looks Pike in the eyes again.

Purple eyes meet the Lord Commander’s, and they are filled with promise. “Life for death,” Pike says. “I will have Ser Zephirin’s heart for what he did to Haurchefant.”

He tunes out of the rest of the conversation. The details are unimportant. Only that Zephirin suffers.

* * *

Zephirin falls by his hand.

Pike does not feel satisfied, or happy. He doesn’t feel much of anything, at all.

Later that day, he places the broken shield on his husband’s grave. He hopes for some sense of closure. 

It does not come.

* * *

Pike distracts himself with whatever he can, taking on a primal in Sharlayan, joining a fledgling bard and a idealist captain on a journey to learn a song of death, finding his lost friends in distant corners of Eorzea. But nothing distracts from the grief that consumes him in the night.

A fog covers Pike’s mind, and only brief bursts of anger or sorrow pierce it. The songs that used to come so easily to his voice and his fingers are distant, faded, like body with no soul. 

In the darkest moments, when sleep has escaped him yet again and the fog seems like it will never end, Pike contemplates killing himself. It would be easy, to throw himself into battle with a primal or a rampaging monster, let it injure him until he falls. But then he thinks of Alphinaud and Valliant, Aymeric, all of his still missing friends. 

He thinks of them experiencing the pain he’s currently lost in, and he perseveres, fighting through the fog to live another day.

Pike is caught in a vicious cycle, with no way out. 

* * *

The door to the Vault stands tall before Pike, and he almost does not enter.

He’d managed his way through the last few hours in Ishgard, keeping the encroaching grief at bay with his anger. Anger at Aymeric’s near brush with death, at the plight of displaced families in the Brume, at the people who had caused so much pain and suffering for a bit of power. A common theme, apparently, among those who worked for the church.

But anger’s not enough to get him through the door to the place his husband died. And so he hesitates.

Artoirel places a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “I know it is difficult. But people need us, Pike. Take up the call for him.”

Pike lets out a shaky breath, then opens the doors.

It’s a familiar scene, though instead of Valliant by his side, it’s Artoirel and Aymeric. They fight their way through various armed assailants, most of whom lack the power to even stand for a moment against Pike, let alone the three of them. Even injured, Aymeric is a powerful fighter, and Artoirel is just a competent as his brother.

He’s still unable to prevent a little girl from being thrown to her death, and that seems fitting for Pike. Strong enough to fight those threatening himself, not nearly strong enough to protect those that need it. But…

But a dragon swoops from the sky and saves the girl’s life, and Pike feels a sharp stab of unbridled joy. It’s the first time he’s felt anything beyond numbness and anger since his husband died, and though it’s fleeting, chased out by the doom Vidofnir warns of, Pike thinks he can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

He still nearly bolts from the plaza as he sees Edmont. It had been weeks since he’d even been in Ishgard, and he had been carefully avoiding Fortemps manor the entire time he’d been there. He can’t bear to see Edmont, to look him in the eyes and see the blame for Haurchefant’s death. Or worse, _ forgiveness _.

But Pike stays, because people are watching him, and he’s not sure they would let him leave. Artoirel himself asks Pike to meet him at the Fortemps manor, and the thought of disappointing him seems more than he could bear. He makes his way there shortly after speaking with Y’shtola, and his hands shake as he opens the door to the sitting room.

It hasn’t changed since the last time he was there, of course. The same lush rugs, the same furniture. His eyes trail over the spot where he’d watched Edmont break down, and immediately he feels sick.

Alphinaud enters, and his eyes land on Pike in shock. “I had not thought…”

Pike sighs heavily and crosses his arms to hide their shaking. “Artoirel asked me to come.”

Alphinaud nods, and at that moment Artoirel enters. “Ah, good. You came.” He nods to one of the servants in the room, and the servant leaves and re-enters carrying a shape wrapped in white cloth.

Pike pulls the cloth gently off to reveal a gleaming shield, with the Fortemps symbol emblazoned in deep crimson on the face. He places one shaking hand on the shield, then takes it with the other, holding it gently.

He recalls a moment with Haurchefant, a night he had visited early in their relationship. Pike had picked up Haurchefant’s shield from its place on the armor rack in his room.

“Why a unicorn?” He had asked Haurchefant.

“For bravery and honor, of course!” Haurchefant had replied with his usual enthusiasm. Then his expression had grown a bit soft, pride shining in his eyes. “It is with great pride that I carry that symbol, you know. Nothing makes me quite as happy as being a knight. Nothing but you, of course.”

A tear slips from Pike’s eye and splashes against the shield. He looks up at Artoirel, who gives him a soft, sad smile. “Fit for a true knight,” he says. Pike nods.

_ A knight lives to serve. To aid those in need. _

* * *

From the back of Hraesvelgr, Pike feels emboldened to ask a question.

“How do you go on without her?”

Hraesvelgr ponders for a moment. “Mine situation is not all alike to thine, mortal one. My beloved’s presence yet lingers with me.”

“Mm,” Pike hums in response. “But you can’t see her, or touch her.”

The great dragon speaks with finality. “I am not without Shiva. Thou wouldst be wise to search elsewhere for answers to thine grief.”

Pike goes quiet at that, and he feels the wind rush past his face. “I think he’s with me, too. Not in the same way, but when I protect people, or drink a mug of cocoa, it’s like I can almost feel him.”

Hraesvelgr rumbles with understanding at that. “I am always closer to my beloved Shiva when I am in flight. Her presence is strongest then.”

“And when it’s at its weakest? What then?”

“When the grief is strongest, I remember her voice, her laughter. Her smile at the sight of our brood. The pleasant memories make the pain easier to bear.”

Pike nods to himself, though the dragon can’t see it. For a few moments, he’s quiet again, then, lowly, almost to himself, he says, “It gets hard to remember there were even good times at all, some days.”

“So it is. Thou must needs push through thine grief and search for those memories. ‘Tis all one can do. Thine own love would be most disappointed to see you early, after all.”

Pike laughs a little. “Yeah, yeah he would.” 

The Steps of Faith are rife with battle and flame when they arrive, and it’s clear that Ishgard is losing. Pike can do little but hope that those he loves are alright. He jumps from the back of Hraesvelgr, and lands nimbly on the stone ground below.

To his relief, he hears Artoirel behind him. “You are late, Warrior of Light!” Though his words are biting, Pike knows Artoirel enough by this point to know that he is glad for his presence.

“My apologies, brother! My errands ran a bit overlong!” He winks at Artoirel and grins. It’s the first true smile he’s felt since Haurchefant died. The smile fades into a serious look as he turns back to face Nidhogg, landing on the Steps with a fearsome roar.

Hraesvelgr gives his eye to Pike, and the golden light suffuses with his own aether. He can feel the power in his very soul, and, very faintly, the warm presence of a woman. It reminds him of Ysayle, and he smiles.

From the sheath at his side, Pike draws a gleaming silver sword, and from his back, a shield emblazoned with a red unicorn. 

He’s alone, Valliant trapped behind the fallen tower with the rest of his cohorts. But he does not worry about these things, only stares down his foe on the battlefield, sword and shield at the ready.

He has something to prove today.

Nidhogg rains fire and pain down on the small, ruined portion of the Steps that they do battle on, and Pike returns every blow with a slash of his sword. He puts every skill he’s forged into his body to great use, and it shows in the slashes opened in Nidhogg’s scales. Every deadly blow dissipates on the face of the shield, and Pike can nearly hear Haurchefant cheering him on, sending him back into the fray with a feral snarl.

He can sense Nidhogg rearing up for something big, the Echo screaming in his mind to stop it. And so he pulls on the strength of Hraesvelgr’s eye, and golden aether consumes his form. The blade in Pike’s hand glows with the power as he brings in down in one great slash, and the aetheric shade Nidhogg created bursts in a shower of black and purple aether. Estinien’s form falls to a knee, panting with effort.

Pike sees Alphinaud skid down the rubble of the ruined tower out of the corner of his eye, the teenager coming to a stop just behind him. Pike shifts just barely to place himself in front of Alphinaud, in case the weakened Nidhogg tries to attack.

“Is this...to be...mine end?” The voice of Nidhogg rings out, though Pike can hear the faint sound of Estinien’s voice underneath the words, growing stronger with each breath. “Nay... I will not allow it... I am of the first brood... I am vengeance incarnate... I am Nidhogg! Thou shalt die by my hand!” 

Nidhogg/Estinien raises his lance, the dark aether swirling to meet it, and Pike steps fully in front of Alphinaud, raising his shield to block the blow. But it doesn’t come, and after a moment, he sees the lance clatter to the ground.

Estinien’s voice is clear as he takes back control over his body. “This is not your hand, wyrm!” The hand that previously held the lance clasps around Estinien’s throat, and Pike can see blood coughed out of his mouth.

Nidhogg roars with Estinien’s voice. “Thou...wilt...obey!” But Estinien doesn’t move, sheer force of will keeping him on the ground. He looks Pike directly in the eyes, and Pike can see the pain and torment within them, along with fear.

“I would ask one last favor of you, Warrior of Light... Finish me─now, while I have the beast subdued!” The fear and torment ring clear in his voice, but Pike ignores his words, sharing a look with Alphinaud.

The second he lays hands on Nidhogg’s eye, searing pain shoots through Pike’s body, and it takes all his strength not to let go. He can barely hear Estinien and Alphinaud speak, and he grits his teeth against another wave of pain as he pulls.

Pike feels a warm hand clasp over his own, and he looks up into his husband’s eyes. He is stunned, and the shock alone nearly makes him let go of the eye. A tear slips from Pike’s eye, but he smiles at Haurchefant, and nods. 

They pull together, and the eye breaks free of the bloodstained armor. The force of it knocks Pike off his feet, but he doesn’t fall, the spirit of Haurchefant steadying him against the blow. He’s blinded by blue light surrounding them, as Nidhogg’s spirit releases from Estinien and is borne to the sky. 

The light fades, and with it Pike watches Haurchefant begin to fade too. Haurchefant mouths three words to him: I love you. More tears pour from Pike’s eyes, and he nods. 

“I love you too,” he whispers as Haurchefant smiles, and turns away, fading completely.

Later, with the Eyes disposed of and Estinien safely in the hands of the healers, Pike looks into the bright blue sky, and smiles. Though the grief yet lingers, for once it has faded, leaving room for hope and joy, and a soft smile at a beautiful new world.

* * *

The snow is thick under his boots as he makes his way through the forest, pack slung over his shoulder. It’s been a long time since he’s needed it, and the faint smell of dust yet clings to the fabric. It mixes with the soft scent of pine and cold in the air, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

It’s nice to be free of the stealth for the moment, though he keeps his ears and eyes on high alert as he follows the familiar path. It’s been years since he’s seen it, and yet his feet take him through the twisting trees and underbrush easily.

An old abandoned cabin crests through the trees, and he lets out a sharp breath. 

It’s clear nobody’s been there in years, by the thick coating of dust on the door and window panes. He pries the door open, and the wood groans but holds under the effort. He takes stock of the room behind it.

Time has not been kind to the old place, but he isn’t looking to stay there for more than a night, so the broken floorboards and rotting bed are of no concern to him. A draft winds its way through the small room, stirring the dust on the ground faintly. Just underneath, he can see the remnants of dark brown stains.

A stone fireplace is just about the only functional thing in the cabin, and he sets about getting a fire lit. The warm light colors the room, casting odd shadows on the walls. He can feel the warmth returning to his fingers, and after sitting there for a couple hours, he finally feels ready to face the reason he came.

Outside the back of the cabin, a small path winds its way back through the woods. It’s a short journey, but it seems to stretch forever as he trudges through the snow. Finally, he reaches the end, and after a short few steps to a tree, shed bare of its leaves, he kneels.

From the pack, Pike retrieves a bouquet of daisies, carefully wrapped to preserve the petals, and lays them across his sister’s grave. The bracelet he made Haurchefant shifts down his wrist.

“Hello, Elphina. It’s been a long time. I have a lot to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap!!
> 
> God I am so happy to be hear at the end, and yet at the same time am so sad to see this fic go! It's truly been a labor of love for me, and though not every part is exactly perfect, I am happy with what I've done. This is the first fanfic I've ever finished besides one-shots, and it makes me feel very accomplished!
> 
> Some thank yous: To my friend Colin (Valliant's player!) who got me into 14 and who has been very nice in listening to me complain about beautiful anime boys. To my friend Ana, who also has listened to me scream about anime boys and read through some of these chapters before I published them even though she doesn't play this game. To KivaEmber, who's own 14 fanfics inspired me to finally write my own (seriously, if you haven't read the Wine Cellar series, go do that right now!! It's wonderful). And finally, to everyone who has read, commented and enjoyed this work! Though this was something I wrote for me, the response I've gotten from people made it that much easier to finish.
> 
> Stick around though, folks! Pike's story doesn't even remotely end here. Next out will probably be a few one-shots set around the span of this story, mostly things I cut from various chapters that I wanted to write but either didn't flow well or were too out of character to continue. And then after that, Pike's story continues in earnest, with Stormblood! Please look forward to it.
> 
> See you all then!


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